


Transition

by Northwind



Series: Transition [1]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M, Minor Character Death, post-513
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-24 05:30:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 32,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1593293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northwind/pseuds/Northwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you love someone enough to set them free, where does that leave you?<br/>Brian Kinney is continuing to live the life as a posterboy for gay freedom when he is confronted with an old friend. Alex has nothing left to loose but he has a lot left to give.</p><p>This may not start out as a Brian/Justin story but rest assured, it will end as one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue Summer 2005, Pittsburgh

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Feelingflamesagain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feelingflamesagain/gifts).



> Thank you so much (Feelingflamesagain) for suggesting I repost this story here as well. *hugs*

The new Babylon was a raging success. Weeks of relentless advertising with splashy ads in the gay rags, news coverage flashing archive footage from the bomb wreckage and even a couple of carefully encouraged political editorials on the importance of civil rights in the face of adversity paid off. 

People were lined up throughout the alley outside the new entrance waiting to be admitted so they too could show the indomitable spirit of queers or maybe… just get laid.   
The dance floor was a swirling mass of bodies, swaying and raising their arms to the thumbing beat of the music. The new sound system was working well, Brian noted with wearied satisfaction and the technicians had finally managed to get the lights synchronized properly a few hours before the doors opening. The green lights flashed on Michael’s face, illuminating the small creases next to his eyes as he smiled at Brian. The flash of a wedding ring competed with sparkles of glitter as he raised his arm and Brian felt it coming to rest on his shoulder as they both danced close together on the small plateau with barely room enough for the both of them.

Michael gave him another proud smile and reached up to kiss him. Brian leaned forward and felt the dry, soft lips press against his for a moment before Michael slipped away and joined Ben at the bar, leaving Brian to savour his success alone, perched above the rebuilt dance floor.   
Throwing his head back and letting the music envelop him completely Brian surrendered to the moment. Michael had been right. It was the right decision to open Babylon again. It was worth it if for no other reason than to be able to send that final fuck you to whoever had been responsible for its destruction and to every other bigot only too pleased to see it go down.   
Worth the months of negotiating with the city’s building officials, countless meetings leafing through blue prints at the building inspectors office when the damage did turn out to be structural after all and fucking endless hours wading through the dust and the deafening noise of the construction site trying to get the entrepreneur finishing on time.   
The music shifted, picking up speed to a throbbing techno rhythm and Brian jumped down from the platform, shooting a sardonic smile and a challenging gesture in the direction of a younger man whose eyes had been following him closely ever since the door’s had opened. “All yours… now that I’m done with it,” he thought with satisfaction and smirked at Brandon’s slightly wary expression. 

After checking the status with the bouncers at the door, he made his way through the throng of dancing queers. The sight of the unlikely couple of Blake and Ben dancing made him chuckle as he passed on his way to the side bar where the rest of them were gathered leaning forward across the bar in deep discussion, hence the side-kicks escaping to the dance floor apparently.

As he approached, Emmett’s voice, even if not particular high pitched, cut through even the loud music:  
“Even if Brian hasn’t been to see him, doesn’t mean Justin shouldn’t have been here tonight. New York isn’t that far away.”   
“This coming from someone placing a bet on that marriage never lasting in the first place,” Ted replied dryly and sidestepped, moving out of reach from the perilously swinging glass of Metropolitan in his friend’s hand.  
“Exactly,” Michael concurred and continued: “Just as well since Justin would have moved on eventually anyways.” 

Brian snorted quietly and remained standing behind the back of his friends. Ted finally looked back and spotted him, the sudden flush in his face, becoming visible even through the flashing lights emanating from the dance floor.  
He opened his mouth to speak but stopped. Brian waved him off with a raised eyebrow and a small amused smile on his lips before moving further along the bar towards the new and improved back room. So Justin apparently hadn’t talked much to any of them either. 

As a general rule Brian preferred not wasting time discussing things and since Michael had seemed pleased, almost relieved even, to see Brian return to his old ways, he’d skirted the issue easily enough the few times, it had been brought it up. 

Approaching the cavernous opening to the dimly lit back room, Brian paused, held back by a buzzing vibration in his pocket.  
He flipped his phone open and shot an appreciating glance towards a cruising bundle of muscles who walked by.  
“Yeah,” he said into the small contraption, frowning as he angled closer to the door in order to be able to hear.   
“Hey it’s me.”   
The introduction made Brian smile involuntarily. Justin had long since perfected the art of sounding casual, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about calling and catching up on news in Pittsburgh and Brian in particular. Which Brian would have to admit, he greatly appreciated for making things easier.  
“Hey. What’s up?” He answered, equally determined to keep matters squarely on this new neutral ground they’d discovered by default.   
“Nothing, unfortunately, Justin complained. “I worked a double shift today, so now all I’m good for is sitting around eating peanut butter sandwiches. You know, perfecting my worn down, starving artiste routine,” he continued trying to sound deprived, a smile none the less creeping into his voice.   
Brian smirked. Justin had never been a starved artist for so much as a second in his short WASPish life, in the past partly thanks to yours truly.   
In fact, judging by the reports Brian had become quite adept at covertly wheedling out of both Jennifer and Lindsay, while Justin certainly wasn’t yet making a living by painting alone, more doors were opening for him every day.   
Justin continued: “I’d have called you earlier and wished you luck, but I figured you didn’t need it?” The lift in his voice would have made it sound like a question except for the teasing tone.   
“Looks like you were right; every queer in Pittsburgh seems to be here tonight,” Brian drawled into the phone, not even bothering to hide his pleased smile.   
“Good, they should be. I hope there are at least some pleasing new prospects to be found amongst them?”  
Justin taunted pleasantly, slowing down his syllables at the end of the sentence.  
Brian smiled again, letting the sounds of Justin’s increasingly flirtatious tone flow over his tired and somewhat inebriated brain in soothing waves.  
As if on cue a slim dark-haired man with slick styled curls and tight jeans cut into his sight and smiled invitingly before approaching, fingers trailing lazily down the edge of Brian’s open black shirt.   
“Funny you should say that,” Brian purred into the telephone and pressed his tongue against the insides of his cheeks, to keep from laughing as bold fingers reached inside the shirt, teasing the skin right above the waistline of his jeans.   
“I’ll leave you to your wicked ways then,” Justin laughed in his ear.   
“Brian…” he continued and then paused, his voice suddenly serious again.  
“Yeah?” Brian felt the huskiness in his voice and hoped the background noise would distort it. The trick, preceding him to the door, was momentarily forgotten.   
“Nothing, just….take care of yourself” Justin finally replied, the emotion obvious in his voice as Brian went through the doorway and down the short hall.   
Brian drew in a short hard breath. This was the part of keeping in touch he hated with a vengeance. The gut wrenching feeling might have gotten a little better over the past months but it never quite seemed to let up completely. For that reason alone, he’d almost told Justin to fucking move on already and stop calling. Almost, but not quite, because who the fuck besides maybe Michael was he still trying to fool after all these years?   
In the end he settled for saying: “You too. Later” softly into the phone before snapping it shut and positioning himself against the wall in a corner.

The trick went down on a bended knee and started expertly unsnapping the jeans buttons with a triumphant expression.  
Brian looked down at him and was suddenly and inexplicably reminded of the warmth and scent of Italian spices of the Novotny house and a pale, sickly looking but laughing Vic sitting hunched at the table looking up at his own younger and incredulous expression before telling him with a wearied flourish: “In the end, if you can’t change it, all you can do is suck it up and take it like a man.”   
Brian looked down, running fingers through dark, wiry curls and controlling the man’s movements. He smothered a moan as he felt the warm wet mouth finally envelop him and then leaned his head back against the wall and felt the laughter well up through his chest and into his throat at the sheer fucking poetic irony of it all.


	2. Early September 2005, Pittsburgh

The outer offices of Kinnetik were bustling with activity on the other side of the pale screen doors. Brian sat in the relative sanctity of his office and tapped a pen against the desk in a distracted gesture as rows of stylized computer images in variations of colour schemes flew by his vision on a lap top, perched precariously, at the edge of the desk. 

He groaned at the magnifying effect the psychedelic blur of colours was having on an already throbbing head ache. As if on cue his private cell phone next to the laptop gave a shrill tone. 

Brian reached across the computer screen for the phone, nearly pushing the computer to the floor. “Fuck!” He exclaimed.   
“Well fuck you too Brian,” Lindsay’s voice sounded pleasantly at the other end.   
Brian swore again, this time under his breath and shifted the phone to his other ear while balancing the laptop to a safer spot on the cluttered desk.  
“Sorry Linds, I’m juggling several fucking balls here and unfortunately I don’t mean that in the literal sense.”   
“I won’t take up any of your time then. I was just calling to thank you for his present. Which arrived by UPS this morning….” she said, a touch of disapproval evident in the tone of voice.   
Brian sighed inwardly, shifting his shoulders in an attempt to get more comfortable and waited for the rest.   
“But seriously Brian, don’t you think buying him a computer is a little extravagant? For a five year old? It’s not even his birthday.”   
“He’ll need one for school soon anyways, might as well give him a head start with one of his own,” Brian said in a persuasive voice and then waited patiently. Having anticipated the argument, he knew exactly what was coming next.  
“Speaking of which…?” Lindsay’s voice dropped an octave. Brian rubbed at the persistent ache gathering strength in his temple and took the bait.   
“We already talked about this Linds. There is no way I can be there for his first day of school and be on time for the meetings, I have scheduled that afternoon. Meetings that help pay for that private school,” he couldn’t resist reminding her.   
“Brian…” 

He had to fight down a wave of irritation at her persistence. Reminding her who had taken his son as far away as Canada in the first place wasn’t an option. He’d suffered quite enough lectures on his failings as a father while Gus was still in Pittsburgh to know that the score against him on that point would be in a permanent state of deficit.   
After a moment of heavy silence, Lindsay continued with the merest hint of resignation evident.   
“Okay, I’ll tell him. But you will be here for Thanksgiving.” It wasn’t a question.   
Brian smiled for the first time during the conversation. So that was what the otherwise futile guilt trip was for. He should have realized it.   
“What? That’s still months away,” he tried dismissively for no other reason than to hear the reaction.   
“Brian…” Lindsay warned him. 

“Let’s see. I can either stay here, get wasted and fuck my brains out without even having to dodge the Novotny holiday cheer programme for desolate fags for once, since they’re going too, or I can spend it in your crowded living room with Mel breathing down my neck and fending of the pumpkin pie that Debbie will be force feeding everyone in sight. Wouldn’t miss it for the world,“ his voice fairly dripped sugar-coated sarcasm.   
“I just thought you might be going to New York,” Lindsay deflected him quietly, shades of earth mother creeping into her voice.   
“Why the fuck would I want to do that for?” Brian asked, determinedly. For all he knew Justin might be coming to Pittsburgh. But he hadn’t asked and he wasn’t going to and it wasn’t any of his fucking business anyways.   
“No, I guess not,” Lindsay concurred quietly. 

“Michael told me, Justin has decided to stop drawing for Rage.” The tone of her voice suggested a change of subject but Brian was hardly fooled.   
“I’m surprised he didn’t tell you himself. I thought you two talked on a regular basis,” Brian evaded. 

Distancing himself from Rage was not a subject, Brian had particularly wanted to discuss with Justin. So they hadn’t discussed it. Besides who could blame the guy for not wanting to wade through reminisces of the past on a regular basis. He’d told Justin from the start. No apologies, no regrets were the only rules worth living by and he sure as hell wasn’t going to put Justin in a position of having to explain or God forbid apologize for leaving Rage behind. 

The subject was better left well enough alone. Michael was disappointed of course, but once he’d get over the misplaced indignity on Brian’s behalf, he’d be alright.   
Lindsay’s answer interrupted his thoughts: “We keep in touch. He sometimes calls and asks advice on galleries and agents.   
“So” she continued determinedly, finally letting the subject go “Thanksgiving…”   
“I’ll be there” Brian affirmed. “And I’ll try to get to Toronto at least once before that even, providing you promise to keep off my fucking back about it.”  
Lindsay’s laugh sounded warm and indulgent. Brian swallowed and rubbed his aching temples again.   
“And now you’ll excuse me while I go secure my decadent and irresponsible lifestyle. You’ll have to regale me with tales of the Maple leaf variety of Lesbianic domestic bliss another time. “   
“Okay, take care Brian. I’ll give your love and your regrets to Gus,” Lindsay said.   
“Yeah,” Brian answered softly and put the phone down with a distracted gesture as he attempted in vain to summon the necessary interest in the frankly uninspired drafts in front of him. 

Ted breezed in after a perfunctory knock, looking his new spiffy best in a cornflower blue starched shirt and carefully spiked up hair.   
“I’ve gotten you the latest numbers on Babylon,“ said Ted and approached the desk, waiving a small folder.  
“Things are looking very promising; especially considering it’s the first quarter it has been back in business. Well, it should considering all the long, hard hours you’ve spent there,” Ted continued, smirking as he placed the folder on the edge of the desk.   
Brian started to regret accidentally revealing his irritation about Babylon having been all work and little, mediocre or no play lately.   
The new manager was great; or rather he would be, once he figured out that Brian’s presence in the club didn’t mean he’d have to stalk him to get approval for every little decision. 

Something that could at times be a little detrimental to Brian’s primary goal in visiting the club. Ignoring Ted’s teasing expression; Brian squinted, and started rifling through a drawer looking for the painkillers he had left there the day before.   
“Cynthia asked me to tell you, that the new guy, Lenny Statler from Brown Athletics, called while you were in the phone conference with Liberty air.   
“Oh and the art department wants to know where we are on the Dantech account? I thought we needed their approval on the last minute changes to meet the magazine deadline this morning? ” Ted continued, cheerfully counting off messages on a scrap of yellow legal pad.   
Brian stared at him for a moment. His brain had been feeling singularly sluggish lately.   
“What?” Ted frowned at his silence.   
“I forgot to send it,” Brian said succinctly, mind already spinning with the ramifications. “Fuck!” He added tersely for good measure.   
“You forgot?!” Ted’s eyes widened and his voice sounded incredulous.   
Brian shot him an irritated look.   
“Sorry!” Ted raised his arms apologetically.  
“It’s just that you’re the only other person I know who has a memory that’s even remotely as obsessive-compulsive as mine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you forget a deadline… or a trick….” Ted paused. 

Brian stared wearily at the worried crease forming in Ted’s forehead. “I’ll call Dantech,“ he said briskly.  
“Just in case, get in touch with our lawyer at Lauderman and Dale. We’d better know what our options are, if they decide to ditch the contract,” he continued.   
“Not that I can blame them. Fuck!” He exclaimed again. This might even require grovelling to fix.   
“I’ll get right on it,” Ted assured him, still looking at Brian searchingly until he was met with a steely look from Brian.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you to put some figures together on getting an in-house legal resource. With all the new minor contracts coming in and my mind evidently slipping, we might be better off instead of paying by the hour.”   
“I think that might be a good idea. I’ve actually already looked at the numbers,” Ted said.   
He mimicked Brian’s habit of pushing his tongue against the inside of a cheek before continuing:  
“It’s too bad Mel went to Canada. She might have been interested.”   
Brian’s eyebrows rose as he shot Ted an incredulous look. What the fuck?   
Ted tried unsuccessfully to hide a smirk.   
“You little asshole. You did that on purpose!” Brian gave him a lethal glare.   
“Just felt a professional obligation to the smooth running of this office to check, how badly you’re incapacitated,” Ted replied wryly, apparently unfazed, eyes twinkling.   
Brian spent a moment reflecting on the loss of the good old humble and self destructive Theodore before, he’d given him a job and helped him a step further on the road to this newfound confidence. No good deed ever went unpunished. 

“Seriously though, Bri, are you okay? You do look kind of tired.” Ted was starting to look worried again.  
Brian wrecked his brain to come up with a reply that would prevent the full onslaught of Ted’s considerable maternal instincts.   
Personally, he’d just as soon rather die from cancer, than have to suffer through another pseudo therapy session complete with the guessing game of which of his pet vices had finally turned into addictions or worse.   
“Fuck off Theodore,” he said pleasantly. 

Ted rolled his eyes, chuckling, and started towards the screen doors.   
Brian looked after him thoughtfully. Inspiration finally struck for the first time that afternoon.   
“Wait,” he called out, halting Ted’s progress.   
“I’m sorry,” Brian started, sounding very contrite. “I shouldn’t have said that. You’re just trying to help and I really appreciate it.”   
Ted stopped in mid-step and stared dumbfounded, a sympathetic expression slowly spreading on his face.  
Bran quickly followed: “I don’t know what I’d do without you here,” he said sincerely, voice breaking for good measure.   
Ted’s face turned expressionless for a few seconds. Then he blinked, shook his head and snorted.   
“Touché. You had me there for a second, “Ted acknowledged with a dry chuckle.  
“Does this mean at least you won’t devote your life to scheming up some elaborate revenge for that remark about Mel?” He continued.   
Brian raised a sardonic eyebrow and made an acquiescing sound low in his throat. 

He smiled pleasantly as Ted exited and pulled the doors shut and then resumed the task of searching for the elusive painkillers.   
Finally he shut the desk drawer shot with a disgusted sound and started eyeing the table with refreshments and a decent supply of spirits across the room.   
Just because his head was splitting open didn’t mean, it wasn’t something a nice stiff drink couldn’t cure. Especially since he was also fucking tired and that meant his other favourite means of relaxation was probably ought to be put aside for the night. 

As he rose, untangling long legs from the swivel chair, waves of dizziness swirled around him, making him grip the edge of the table. Tired and forgetful was one thing but this was getting ridiculous. Easing back into the chair he reached for the phone and started scrolling through the numbers with a resigned expression, adding a doctor’s appointment to the growing list of things to keep track of.


	3. September 29th 2005, Pittsburgh

The waiting room and the halls of the oncologist’s office were decorated with the same pretty, tranquil and completely vapid watercolours as the examining room.   
Brian suppressed a shudder of distaste, as he finally wove his way past the secretary’s station and the disappointingly straight clerk and walked out into the watery, cool sunshine of the parking lot. 

The blustery air caused him to shiver and he looked down in surprise, leather jacket still draped across his arm in his hurry to escape the confines of the too warm office.  
Then again, he figured, dressing people up in tiny open blue gowns probably necessitated that. Maybe the indignity combined with a cancer diagnosis conveniently caused most people to be pliant and even open to suggestions about their future lifestyles.

As he shrugged into the soft leather, his fingers automatically sought the pocket and pulled out the cigarettes. He chuckled and lit the cigarette defiantly. Fuck that. And fuck the suggestion of cutting back on booze and work too. After all he didn’t have cancer again. Every single test had been clear. Well clear of cancer anyways. Who the hell didn’t have an elevated blood pressure and stress symptoms these days? As far as the insomnia went though, he might actually have to follow the doctor’s rather obvious advice of actually using his bed to sleep in a little more. What a waste.

Instead of going straight for the Corvette, Brian remained standing outside the entrance, smoking.   
As it were, he could have saved himself the subterfuge of dodging the subject of his afternoon appointment at the collective diner breakfast.   
Ted had innocently asked about his afternoon schedule and he hadn’t been able to think of a valid excuse fast enough.   
Somehow “None of your fucking business” had never really worked well with Michael.   
He chuckled. Giving him a big old sloppy kiss however did the trick like always. And just like always, good old Zen-Ben had just smiled indulgently. Smart guy that, and good for Mikey. What more could you ask for?   
He suddenly kicked a pebble defiantly. Stupid question. There was no point in going over what couldn’t be changed anyways. 

The area between the building and the black tarmac of the parking lot sported a perfunctory little stretch of evergreen shrubbery complete with a bench. Brian strolled along the side, oblivious to his surroundings until he came to the side of the bench, noticing for the first time, the man bent over in the corner of it.   
What the fuck? Brian’s eyed narrowed. From behind the silvery hair and slouched posture spoke of age. Closer up however, the image became younger and more familiar. Alex Wilder of all people. Christ, he hadn’t seen him at the baths for ages.  
Snippets of conversation came back to him accompanied by the image of flirting, amused brown eyes.   
“It’s like a fairytale, Rapunzel trapped in the tower…And it’s up to you to release it, handsome prince.”   
The last time he’d talked to him had been at Woody’s; Alex had been doling out professional psychological advice on Justin’s bashing with a dash of gleeful flirtation on top and enjoying every second of watching Brian squirm. 

Alex looked up, interrupting Brian’s train of thought.  
”Brian Kinney, it’s been awhile,” he said with a wearied kind of surprise totally devoid of his usual flirtation.   
“Alex,” Brian acknowledged and rounded the side of the bench to sit down. He put out the cigarette against the ground and stretched his legs slowly in an attempt to clear his mind. 

If the thin slumped figure of someone who had always had a slender build to begin with wasn’t enough to go by, the ashen complexion blending seamlessly with the silver hair would have given it away. He opened his mouth and then closed it again. What was there to say? Debbie might not like his style around this particular subject and he’d have to grudgingly give her that one after the ass, he’d made of himself when Vic died.  
But at least he wasn’t the type to start simpering all over the poor schmuck. 

Alex looked sideways at him, eyes startlingly amber in the pale face.   
“Don’t tell me your decadent lifestyle has finally caught up with you Kinney? Last I heard you were getting married and now I meet you here?” He made a deliberate gesture back towards the building to accentuate the last question. 

“Lucky escape on both counts,” Brian smiled without humour and rubbed a hand against his chin awkwardly.   
“This was just a check-up,” he continued without really knowing why.   
Alex laughed quietly without rancour “Figures, I thought you looked too sexy to be sick.”   
He leaned a little closer, raising one eyebrow suggestively.   
Brian smirked reluctantly and shook his head. “You in treatment?” he asked.   
“Not anymore,” Alex said and leaned back further away, the bitterness creeping into his voice for the first time.

Brian fought the urge to look away and kept gazing at him steadily.   
“Then what the fuck are you doing sitting here?” Brian retorted.   
“If it had been me, I’d be heading off to Ibiza on a one-way ticket, sipping margaritas and ogling all those pretty tan boys by now,” he continued philosophically.   
Alex chortled as Brian had hoped. “You would, Kinney,” he replied, shaking his head.  
“I should have thought of that before I let them try to fix it by poisoning me in the first place.”   
He made a tired gesture up and down his body. 

Brian fought a shiver at the memory of a burning heaving stomach stuck in between a cold bathroom floor and Justin’s cool soothing rag being pressed against his neck and naked shoulders.  
He shifted and rummaged through the inside pocket of the leather jacket, exchanging his regular cigarette casing for a slightly smaller version. Long fingers deftly flipped the little metal opening and took out the joint within.  
Brian lit it, taking a careful drag and savoured the first tingle of effect before offering it sideways.   
Alex narrowed his eyes and then looked pointedly around the public space with a few hurried professionals and the occasional stroller-pushing mom walking by at a short distance.   
“What are they going to do? Kill you?” Brian taunted and bit down on one side of his lower lip, creating a lopsided grin.   
The laugh burst through Alex’s lips and resonated through the thin crisp air. He leaned all the way over and nudged his shoulder against Brian’s.  
“Christ Brian, I should have known a narcissistic bastard like you would be the one person who’d know not to treat me like I’m already fucking…”   
“..Dead?” Brian interrupted and nudged back.   
He remembered that part all too well. Michael sobbing, Ted fussing and Justin’s fucking chicken soup. That particular memory always settled a lead weight of guilt in his gut. Okay so maybe the whole Ibiza thing had worked better in theory.   
“Yeah,” Alex answered his question with an amused smile and reached out for the joint. Their eyes met and Brian handed it over, slowly letting his fingers slide over Alex’ and nearly laughed at the shiver, he felt in response from the other man.   
“You don’t seem quite dead to me yet,” he teased, tongue in cheek. 

Watching Alex inhale deeply, he continued on an afterthought. “I haven’t seen you around the baths in ages though. Kept meaning to ask Todd about you but the guy can’t keep a dick out of his ass long enough to hold a conversation if his life depends on it.”   
Alex giggled before handing the joint back. It was an infectious sound. Brian had to bite down on his lip not to follow suit.   
He inhaled quickly and then lost the battle as Alex said: “I went to Cleveland. I’ve been living there for a couple of years. Came back a few months before this all started.”   
“You abandoned glorious Pittsburgh and went to Cleveland? What the fuck for?” Brian grinned.   
The non-committal sound coming from the opposite side of the bench sounded a little embarrassed. 

Brian reached over and let Alex breathe through the joint again.  
“It seemed like a good idea at the time. He was pretty hot,” Alex laughed at Brain’s incredulous face before levelling a finger at him.  
“Besides who are you to be pointing fingers with that pretty little blonde of yours? I’m assuming that’s who you were going to marry until what? He ran off to New York City to be famous and left you here on your own, according to Todd?”   
“Yeah” Brian said curtly, suddenly feeling less elated.  
He saw no point in avoiding the subject. It wasn’t like, it was a secret anyways. Every faggot in Pittsburgh had smirked at him since last March with a few, much worse exceptions cooing sympathetically all over him.   
Not one of them seemed to get, with the possible exception of Michael, who had his own reasons, that it wasn’t a tragedy.   
The bomb was almost a fucking tragedy. Justin leaving, so he could become all he was meant to be was right. Simple as that and since neither of them could change that, they’d both chosen to accept it and move on from there.   
End of story and nobody’s fucking business which was also why he saw no reason to tell anyone that they still kept in touch. Someone would just get the wrong idea.   
Alex regarded him speculatively for a moment. The expression made him look older and more obviously sick. “I never took you to be that cruel Brian,” he said and made a disparaging sound. 

Brian frowned, a look of surprise quickly turning into the trademark pissed-off Kinney look, complete with a question mark at the end.  
Alex leaned closer, looking him straight in the eye, their foreheads nearly touching.

“Do you know, how utterly unfair it is of you to put that beautiful, available body of yours right in my face and then tell me it’s available when I’m no longer able to take advantage of it,” he whispered suggestively, unconsciously licking his lower lip.   
Brian gave a surprised shout of laughter and closed the distance, breathing against his cheek. “You wish,” he whispered back.   
Alex merely raised an eyebrow in the pale face and grinned. 

Standing up, Brian threw down the rest of the cigarette and stomped on it briefly before reaching down and pulling the other man to his feet.   
He looked at him. “Come on. I’m going to give you all the pleasure, you can handle right now. In other words, I’m buying you a drink.”


	4. September 29th 2005, Pittsburgh

Babylon’s newest disc jockey started the evenings’ warm-up gently. The suave waves of Black’s Wonderful Life wafted through the building, reverberated past the dance floor and through partitioning to the small office space behind the main stairs reserved for the owner.

Brian snorted at the appropriateness of the choice and cast a quick glance towards the couch which had been squeezed in between the wall and the desk. Alex seemed oblivious to the sudden increase in sound, still curled up on the leather, head lolling to one side against the wall and the empty glass cradled in his lap.

Tapping in a few last commands, Brian leaned back and slowly stretched arms behind and up in the air. Sore muscles protested and a disgruntled joint made a faint crackling noise, as he rotated the shoulder blades to get the blood circulation going. Christ, he was getting old, he thought disgustedly. Yeah, right, supposedly better than the alternative?  
He stole another look at his old acquaintance, now snoring quietly as he slept away the whisky and drugs, Brian had been plying him with all afternoon. It wasn’t charity either. Even half dead the guy was still pretty good company, Brian mused.

The booze had done nothing to improve the pale greyness of his complexion accentuated by the shadows cast by the harsh light from Brian’s desk lamp but at least a few pained lines around the eyes seemed to have been smoothed out by the drug-induced sleep.

He’d initially meant to go to Woody’s but had changed his mind in the car.  
Given the rather limited scope of Pittsburgh’s gay social scene, the likelihood of running into someone they both knew was pretty much a given and Alex obviously wasn’t in a sharing mood when it came to the result of today’s excursion to the oncologists. Brian figured, what the hell, after saving his ass that time with Justin, the least he could do was give the guy a time-out, before he had to face up to reality.

So without asking his passenger, Brian had opted for the stash of Chivas Regal in his little hide-out instead. The lair, as Ted had lovingly dubbed it during the reconstruction of Babylon.

Brian looked around at the cramped space and snorted again. Ted’s sense of irony had always been one of his more endearing qualities.   
The lair was little more than a very unglamorous broom closet with a few tasteful improvements furniture wise. But disregarding the usual thumping noise during the nights, it provided a place of relative quiet without taking over the actual manager’s office.   
Besides, he’d told Michael patiently, when teased about it, who the fuck needed glamour? That was what the new and much improved back room was for. Speaking of which…. Brian cast another assessing glance at his sleeping companion, deciding his company wouldn’t be missed for at least another half an hour or so.  
Cardiac work-out and relaxation all rolled into one. He smiled briefly and rubbed a hand across his chin in an absentminded gesture before pushing back the chair quietly and rising to his feet.

The sound of the phone startled him momentarily. He cursed and fumbled around the discarded boxes of take-out and scattered pages of booze inventory for the elusive piece of electronics.  
Without bothering to check caller-id, he snapped the phone open and called out a curt “Yeah” while ducking out of the room and standing behind the stairs.

“Hey, it’s me.” 

The familiar voice made him cast a look towards the end of the hall and the side entrance to the back room. Giving due consideration to the fact that neither meaningless fabulous sex with total strangers or conversations with Justin happened nearly often enough these days to be truly satisfying, the number of times the two coincided was starting to be a little unsettling.

“Have I ever complimented you on your impeccable timing?” Brian said into the phone.

“What? I interrupted something?” Justin sounded anything but contrite.

“Since when does having your dick in someone’s mouth distract you long enough to prevent you from having a conversation? Present company or should I say mouth excluded of course,” Justin’s continued with just the right undertone of velvet in his voice to go straight to Brian’s pulse.

Brian held the phone out from his ear and studied it for a moment, frowning. Months, not just weeks but months worth of email, phone calls and text messages and not one single direct sexual innuendo in any of them. Not until now.   
Justin had let him get away with keeping things platonic so easily, never once asking him to come to New York to visit, that Brian had spent an entirely inappropriate amount of time trying to figure out exactly why he’d be willing to do so. So far he hadn’t liked any of the answers. 

“So how are things in the big apple,” he finally managed, tracing the joints between the bricks in the wall next to him absentmindedly and feeling the rough surface of mortar and brick beneath his fingers.

“Great, they’re…just great.” Justin sounded determinedly cheerful. Something definitely was up with that. Brian gritted his teeth, starting to wish Justin would just come right out and say it. 

“So, what did the doctor say?” Justin continued even more carefully casual with the muted watery thud of something sounding like a paintbrush hitting the bottom of a tin in the background.

Brian’s eyebrows rose in surprise and he leaned back against the doorway before answering.

“The interesting question is what makes you think, he had anything to say, considering the fact that I distinctly don’t remember mentioning anything about an appointment to you?” he said, mind already racing with damage control options.

“When you called me last week from the gym, you were bitching about the bruise from the needle and blood tests generally take a few days,” Justin plopped another paintbrush down.

“I have regular HIV-tests, you know that.”

“Nice try Brian, but that’s exactly why you’re so predictable. You have them every 6 months and always in the beginning of the month. So if you had blood tests done last week it must be for something else and don’t even bother mentioning the regular check up at the oncologist, because you’re not scheduled for that for another couple of months either.”   
Justin still sounded suspiciously reasonable about this; Brian thought annoyed and flicked the back of his fingers against the frame on the door.

“My, you’re a regular sleuth. Remind me to tell Debbie, Carl will be so proud.”

Justin snorted. “As if you’d voluntarily tell Debbie or anybody for that matter about a check-up at the oncologist.”

“Then why are you asking me?” Brian replied with the exaggerated patience, he’d learnt the hard way, was pretty much the only way to piss off a determined Justin.

“Because I’m not anybody.” Justin’s voice was still deliberately calm but no where near cheerful anymore.

Brian looked back through the doorway at a sleeping Alex, curled up on the couch, still cradling his arm against his abdomen. He took a deep breath.  
“No, you’re not,” he finally conceded softly, silently applauding the sheer stubborn tenacity it must take for Justin to still be bothering with him after all this time.

“Brian, you would tell me, wouldn’t you?” 

The quiet hesitant words made him laugh tiredly. So Justin was still a mere mortal after all. Good, he’d been worried there for a moment.

“I’m fine. It was just a precaution,” Brian said and cradled the phone a little closer.

“I would tell you, After all what the fuck’s the point of making mistakes if you don’t learn from them,” he continued gruffly and then closed his eyes as he heard Justin exhale unsteadily at the other end.

“Brian…that’s... thanks for telling me” Justin replied quietly, his voice a cross between gratitude and relief.

“Don’t,” Brian injected quickly. “Everything is fine; and don’t fucking tell me, you’ve had nothing better to do all week than worrying your pretty little blond head over this?” 

The sarcasm had its desired effect, he noted with satisfaction as he heard the muffled sound and allowed himself a brief mental image of the classic Taylor eye-roll that inevitably went with it.

“I’ll have you know, I’ve scheduled my first small solo show with a highly esteemed gallery today,” Justin made no attempt to hide his pride.

Brian smiled genuinely. “Who’d you have to fuck to get a solo that quick?” 

The answering expletive had him laughing outright.

“Fuck you Brian,” Justin tried to keep the mirth out of his own voice. 

“I’m just that good,” he continued smugly.

“I know you are. Unfortunately in the real world, that doesn’t always get you through the door,” Brian replied.

“You really want to know?” Justin was clearly enjoying every minute of this. 

“Would I ask if I didn’t?” 

“I dressed up for my appointment in the Hugo Boss suit, you bought me and gave them a presentation I figure would have been worthy of Kinnetik. Imagine my disillusion when they bought the whole act, hook, line and sinker with barely a glance at my portfolio. So much for artistic integrity,” Justin sighed dramatically.

Brian snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure you’ll be sequestered all evening, mourning the loss of innocence.”

“Well, I was actually going to go to this new club, the guys at my studio has been raving about. “What about you?”

“I’m already at Babylon. I met an old friend at the doctor’s. Figured, I’d buy him a drink.” Brian looked through the doorway again with a sigh.

“Do I know him?” Justin’s voice had slipped into serious mode again and Brian cursed himself for not having kept his own tone more neutral.

“Alex Wilder? I don’t think so. I know him mainly from the baths from before this annoying little twink supposedly domesticated me.” Brian kept his reply deliberately light. If Justin could start to throw things in there again, so could he….

Justin snorted. “Domesticated you, my ass. No, seriously, I know that guy. He’s about my height and kind of hot but a lot older, with grey hair right?”

“You little twat, he’s practically my age. How the hell do you know him?” Brian squinted.   
He definitely would have remembered introducing those two, especially at the baths. The mere thought made him wince.

“Michael pointed him out to me once at Woody’s. The two of you were shooting pool and he was coming on to you pretty strong.   
I remember Michael telling me, he had a total crush on you and if a guy like that didn’t have a chance, I might as well get my twinkie ass back home in bed on a school night,” Justin explained wryly.

“That long ago huh? I’m surprised you remembered,” Brian replied teasingly.

“I remember you seemed to enjoy him flirting with you. That was pretty devastating at the time. Like you said, it was a long time ago,” Justin said fondly.

Brian laughed. “He’s a flirt, but that’s all it was. He’s too much like me. It’s the challenge, he enjoys.” Or enjoyed, he thought more seriously.

“I can relate to that,” Justin said. They both laughed.

“Have fun,” he continued fondly. 

Brian replied and snapped the phone shut quietly just as Alex stirred drowsily a few feet away as if on cue.


	5. September 29th 2005, Pittsburgh - later that night

There was something subtly different about Babylon that night.

He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Brian frowned and looked around the familiar surroundings. Music was a little too mellow for his taste tonight, but then he usually wasn’t paying much attention to it anyways. He tugged at the collar of the formal white shirt, he hadn’t had a chance to change.

Leaning over the smooth surface of the bar, he looked to his left side where Alex was receiving the drink, he’d ordered after waking up in Brian’s office.

 

Alex fumbled in his pocket and surreptitiously drew a couple of small white tablet from his pocket, hiding them in his palm.

Brian snickered and leaned down to nudge him with a shoulder, indicating their surroundings with a raised thumb.

Alex looked beyond his shoulder and shook his head wryly at the sight of a tall man, alternately bleached and tanned to perfection bending over the petite latino at his side to share the bump, they were both snorting up their noses.

 

Rolling his eyes, Alex opened his palm and saluted Brian before openly swallowing the Vicodin with a long drink from the bottle of mineral water.

 

Brian sipped his own beer. “You want me to call you a cab?” he leaned closer to Alex to ask the question.

 

“Hell no, the night is young,” the vehement answer was softened by the mischievous twinkle in dark brown eyes.

“But don’t let me keep you,” Alex said suggestively, indicating the throng of men with a sweep of the hand still holding the bottle of Evian.

 

“S’alright,” Brian replied complacently. “I don’t see anything worth the effort anyways,” he said scanning the room and subtly avoiding eye contact with the cruising men surrounding the bar area.

 

“Except for you of course” he looked back and smiled smoothly.

 

Alex laughed. “You know, I’ve already had my fill of life altering, existentialistic experiences today. To learn that Brian Kinney of all people have stopped tricking might actually tip me right over the edge.”

 

“I thought you once said that I have enough disorders to merit my own classification in the diagnostical and statistical manual, so surely you can come up with a neurosis or two to excuse my lack of enthusiasm for one night,” Brian fibbed and had to bite down to prevent an actual goddamn yawn. Christ, he was tired.

 

“But that’s just it. For all your aberrations, you’ve always been so comfortingly predictable,” Alex said teasingly.

 

Brian took a long swig from the beer bottle and looked away, wincing slightly despite his best effort. Thinking, that if he had to hear _that_ word one more time _that_ night, he’d find someone in the back room to give a good pounding to, tired or not, _predictable_ or not.

 

“Sorry, sore spot?”

 

Brian looked back and caught Alex looking at him with a speculative, almost worried glance.

 

He shrugged. “Nah, just that I fucking hate that word, _predictable,_ ” he enunciated it slowly, tasting the first syllable and then spitting the rest of it out.

Good old predictable Brian who could always be depended on fucking everything in sight and generally providing everyone with an object of either scorn or pity. He knew, it wasn’t fair, but Justin had hit a nerve. Justin, of all people and now Alex who’d lived the exact same life, not giving a damn about anyone else’s norms.

 

“Tell me about it,” Alex voice had a soothing, friendly quality about it. His smile was equally engaging.  Brian had his mouth open, before he even realized it.

He hurriedly closed it again. Okay, that was it. He shouldn’t have had that last beer.

 

“Sorry” Alex smiled, not the least bit contrite. “Occupational hazard,” he continued and leaned back against the bar.

 

“Still, you’ve been listening to my sob story all afternoon, it’d only be fair, if I gave you back a little of my expertise,” Alex said.

 

Brian snickered against his will. The guy never let up for a moment, that last word had been spoken through pouting lips and with ample dramatic flair which only possible connotation to a white coat was more kinky, than even he’d care to dwell on.

 

“Well, I do have this _friend_ of mine who for some reason gets stereotyped _all_ the time on the basis of nothing more than his natural prowess,” he paused, tongue in cheek and looked at a grinning Alex.

 

 “But any issues he might have, are hardly worth your considerable… _expertise,”_ Brian continued.

 

“Since I’m the expert, why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” Alex’ eyes sparkled beneath the flickering lights.

 

“Are you sure you’re up for it?” Brian bit his lip provocatively.

 

Alex returned his look and raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure your _friend_ is up for it? Last I heard he was supposedly pining away for a little piece of blond ass.” The words were softened by a smile turning a little compassionate at the end.

 

A short, sharpened laugh escaped Brian.

 

“Oh don’t worry about that. There is already a whole long list of people ready to commiserate with _that_ problem”

Shit, he hadn’t meant to get into anything relating to Justin. He shook his head wearily and picked at the label of his beer bottle to avoid looking at his friend.

 

“Ah, forget it” he muttered.

 

If only he hadn’t been so fucking tired some innocent remark wouldn’t have thrown him off base, he decided. Maybe he was a narcissistic asshole, but even he knew better than to queen out considering Alex’ situation at the moment. Talk about perspective.

 

Alex looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. Slowly his gaze shifted to a point beyond Brian’s shoulder.

“Would your friend’s problems by any chance have anything to do with the guys over there sending you baffled looks and trying to get your attention?” he enquired.

 

Brian turned and followed his line of vision.

“Great” he muttered sarcastically beneath his breath. Of all the times for Michael and the collective gang to decide to venture out on a week night.

He appreciated the support. He really did and he’d even reluctantly admit to having needed it from time to time, but today had left him a little raw and he wanted nothing more than a drink and to let the memory of Justin’s latest phone call wash away in beer and the harmless flirting of someone who was a lot worse off.

Playing the stud of Liberty Avenue to reassure Michael and company, that he was alright, wasn’t a pleasing prospect for once.

 

“It’s been awhile but I think I recognize Ted and Emmett Honeycutt looking as flamboyant as ever and that guy on the left is the one who used to hang out with you at Woody’s, Michael right?” Alex asked.

 

“Yeah,” Brian confirmed tiredly and raised his bottle in response to Michael’s greeting from across the room as they tried to navigate through the throng at the door.

 

“Brian, I haven’t told anyone around here about ….” Alex said suddenly in a low urgent voice, stepping a little closer.

 

“Don’t worry, I won’t unleash their pity on you instead, tempting as it might be,” Brian drawled in response and rubbed a hand across his neck.

 

“You asked me, if I was up for it. What if I tell you, I’m up for solving both our problems at least temporarily?” The mischief was back in Alex’ voice, but his expression was still tentative, as he gazed up into Brian’s face.

 

Brian frowned, question clear in his eyes.

 

“Come on,” Alex smiled and pushed away from the counter.

 

He grabbed Brian’s hand decisively and moved towards the dance floor, almost stumbling, as he tried to pass a couple of deeply interlocked dancers on the outer edges of the floor.

 

The gang walked past them calling out greetings.

 

Brian introduced Alex briefly and then indicated the dance floor. He turned from the inquisitive look, Michael had on his face, as he stared down at their interlocked hands. He could hear the surprised tittle of Emmett’s best party voice above the music and then had to focus on the wavering man in front of him.

Clearly Alex, for all his protestations to the contrary, was reaching the limit of his strength.

 

“Watch it asshole. You look like you’re ready to pass out,” Brian slid an arm across the lower back of the other and tried to support some of his weight.

 

Alex turned back towards him, looping his arms up around Brian’s shoulders and held on, trying to regain his balance.

“I’m fine, just a little drunk. Once the treatments are out of my system, I’ll be okay. For a few weeks anyways,” he continued determinedly cheerful into Brian’s ear.

 

“And you dancing when you can barely stand up, solves what exactly?” Brian still held him, feeling the warm skin of Alex’ back as his sweater slid up under the firm grip.

 

Alex smiled at him and leaned even closer against Brian’s chest, holding on with one hand and moving the other caressingly across his back and finally burying his fingers in the hair at Brian’s nape.

 

“Nothing. But at least it’s not predictable.”

 

Brian felt the stubble of the smaller man’s cheek as it rubbed against his neck. There was something strangely comforting about the weight resting in his arms and starting to move slowly to the sound of the music blasting through the room.

It was a remix of some sort. One of those sentimental eighties songs rejuvenated with rhythm and synthesised sound effects.

 

“Whatever works” He finally managed, casually.

 

“Of course I could think of at least _one_ thing, I’d rather be doing, if you’d let me.” The words were accompanied by a hand sneaking down to cup the curve of his ass.

 

Brian leaned into the caress with a smirk on his face. “For someone as educated as yourself, you have an amazingly one-track mind.”

 

He held on a little tighter and moved them both slowly to the underlying rhythm of the old song.

 

“You mean you’re not going to grant a dying man’s wish to experience the joys of sex with the legendary Brian Kinney even just once.”

 

Brian snorted.

 

“Just once huh? I seem to recall at least a dozen occasions at Liberty Baths which, even if they included a few other people, might fit that general description.”

 

“Not quite the particular kind of sex, I was looking for..”

 

“Pure semantics. You should know better than to argue that point with an advertising man.”

 

“Since we’re discussing professions, surely you can imagine, how intriguing your unwillingness to share that lovely ass of yours would be to a shrink”

 

“Give it a rest, much as your kind love to stick labels on people, it was simply the challenge, you couldn’t resist.”

 

“True and besides, it was either that or be one of the love struck boys at your beg and call and frankly, that would have been undignified for someone of my superior intelligence.”

 

Brian smothered the snicker bubbling forth, frowned and looked down on the head resting against his shoulder.

 

“Okay,” he said suddenly.

 

“Okay what?”

 

“Okay. Lead the way,” Brian’s eyes glinted with the challenge.

 

He stepped back a little and relinquishing his hold, causing Alex to stumble forward against him. The way he figured it, there was no way Alex would be able to go through with it.

 

“You really are evil you know that?” Alex acknowledged and shook his head.

 

“No, I’ve just had those treatments too. They don’t exactly have an… enhancing effect," he grimaced and kept a hand supporting Alex arm cautiously.

 

“You sure, you don’t want to get out of here?”

 

“Not unless I’ve outstayed my welcome. The alternative is to go home and think depressing thoughts. I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet.”

 

“This is fine,” Brian muttered and reached out again.

 

It _was_ fine.

 

In fact it was just what the doctor ordered, he decided. After all who could blame the guy for wanting to live in the moment? Hell, if anyone could sympathize with that, he could.

 

Unconsciously he relaxed his knees and bent down, putting himself face to face with Alex and wrapping his arms around him.

He had the right height and the same slender build which made for a pleasing dance partner.

 

Ironic really, that it had been ages, since he’d danced last, he thought and leaned his forehead against the other man’s for a brief moment.

 

Then again, who the hell had time for foreplay these days?

So while this was might be construed as slightly lesbianic, there were mitigating circumstances.

Besides, he suddenly caught Emmett’s gaping mouth and a confused frown on Michael’s face from across the room, at least it wasn’t _predictable._


	6. October 20th 2005, Pittsburgh

The Liberty diner looked tired in the late morning light. The brilliant red and orange hues of what looked to be another beautiful Indian summer day revealed dust in the window sills and scuff marks on worn linoleum. 

Brian walked through the door briskly; mind already deeply immersed in the mornings meetings with his art department. That putrid greenish background colour on the new Brown Athletics slides had to go. He barely acknowledged the presence of the people gathered in one of the booths but simply put down the black leather briefcase and slid into place with an arm slung across the seat behind Michael’s back.

Emmett and Ted shared a surprised glance across the table while Michael nudged him with an elbow. “Thought, you’d be at the gym this morning,” he said.   
“Couldn’t make it,” Brian used the other hand to gesture to Debbie who was busy counting change at the crowded counter.   
She sauntered over, the crackling sound of gum popping preceding her. “What’ll it be?” she asked him.  
“Coffee or what passes for it,” he replied succinctly.   
“I’m getting you an omelette to go with that” she smartly replied and flipped a chipped chartreuse coloured nail on the white notepad in her left hand.

Brian made a small annoyed sound at the back of his throat and then shrugged. Not worth the effort of protesting. Besides, the worry lines around the older women’s eyes, hadn’t escaped his notice. Hunter might not be anyone’s dream of an adopted grandson but his health had kept both Novotny households worried after a turn for the worse following a bad bout of the flu.   
Not that Michael had complained, or even leaned on Brian for support other than as a part of the whole group.

Regardless of his determined effort to keep appearances of the Brian and Mikey show intact up to the opening of Babylon, their friendship had changed, Michael had changed…even if he had given Brian carte blanche not to, Brian thought with a small measure of annoyed regret.

“So how’s the little shit? Better I assume since you’re not at home holding his widdle teenage hand?”   
He turned to Michael, keeping his arm draped across the edge of the seat in a deliberate gesture born from some emotion, he couldn’t quite identify.   
“He’s going to be okay, “Michael said calmly, curling his lip into a tentative smile.   
“His viral load is coming down nicely with the new meds and Ben doesn’t have classes until noon, so I’m officially released from the duties of sick care this morning.”

“That’s good news sweetie,” Emmett smiled and relinquished his fork to reach across to Michael’s hand while Ted murmured his assent.   
“Besides,” Ted mused after a little while. “He should talk about holding teenage hands. I seem to recall a certain fondness for that variety not so long ago,” he said and pointed a yoghurt covered spoon in Brian’s direction.   
Brian looked at the gooey confection pointed in his way with as much distaste, as he could muster.   
“Whatever I had a fondness for holding, it wasn’t his hand.”

Brian’s hand stole across the table for the cup placed in front of Michael. The cup of heavily sugared coffee, he’d brewed when he’d gotten up from another pointless attempt at sleeping, was long gone.   
“Hey! Get your own,” Michael protested but at the same time leaned back, shaking his head and laughing, finally.   
“Oh let him,” Emmett said airily. “He probably needs the caffeine. What with a new boyfriend and all? I saw Alex over at the market the other day. He certainly looked exhausted.”   
Emmett smirked while slim fingers dusted an imaginary speck of dirt of the cerise coloured shirt.

“He’s not my fucking boyfriend,” Brian uttered with a resigned eye roll.   
Okay, he had to admit that the first time had been priceless. Half the jaws of Liberty Avenue had dropped that night.   
Besides, the guy was still more fun to be around with one foot in the grave than most of the guys around the watering holes these days and a hell of a lot less demanding too.   
Keeping a confidence for someone who couldn’t stand to be the object of everyone’s pity seemed a small price to pay to have the silence chased out of the loft on occasion.   
It evidently also kept Michael from feeling obligated to do the same.

The object of his thoughts smiled fondly at his mother, as Debbie sidestepped past a harried drag queen up to their table and balanced a plate of hot greased omelette and a mug of steaming coffee onto the table in front of Brian.  
“Tuck in!” she said in a stern voice and busied herself clearing away the remnants of the others breakfast.   
Michael regarded him thoughtfully while he grimaced around the first bite of buttery protein.   
“Keep telling yourself that “Michael said, pleasantly disbelieving about the boyfriend part.

”I was talking to Mel and Linds yesterday trying to persuade them to come here for Halloween, since Hunter isn’t up to the trip to Toronto just yet, he said.   
“They’d love to meet him and I figured you might want to introduce him to Gus,” Michael continued, glancing at him sideways.   
“Why the Hell would I want to do that?” The vehemence in Brian’s voice took them all by surprise.   
Emmett and Ted stared silently at him from across the table and Michael’s face took on a hurt, belligerent expression that told Brian, he hadn’t quite been kidding after all. Shit.   
“He isn’t going to be introduced to Gus and there’ll be no playing big happy family with Alex involved, so lay off!” he continued harshly.

He knew, he was being unfair but the thought of Gus with Alex hit a little too close for comfort. Gus still asked about Justin on the phone when Lindsay wasn’t listening in. Brian had tried to explain the concept of “still friends” but to a five year old, it didn’t make sense. The thought of introducing him to another friend who would disappear too wasn’t even negotiable. 

“Well excuse me!” Michael said, straightening and moving slightly forward in his seat. “We’ve barely seen you lately. I guess, I figured, there might have been a reason.”   
Brian had to grit his teeth to prevent his instinctive response from forcing its way through his throat.   
Emmett sensing the dissention gave him an uncharacteristically serious look from across the table,  
“Brian…” his voice faltered.

Brian took a deep breath and saw the stiffening of Debbie’s shoulders from the corner of his eyes.   
“Theodore, would you explain to these gentlemen why I haven’t been around much lately?”   
His voice had a silky calmness, that had Ted looking at him silently a moment before answering.   
“Brian’s landed two new major clients in the last month alone. Things have been pretty hectic around Kinnetic.” Ted said apologetically.   
Brian held eye contact with Ted while smiling wryly. Ever the peace maker. He was slowly coming to realize that the incongruous decision of hiring Teddy might well be one of the best business decisions, he’d ever made.

Grateful for the intervention, he reached forward and grabbed Michael’s shoulder firmly enough that the smaller man couldn’t squirm out of the grip.   
“I can’t be everywhere at once.”   
And you could have just fucking asked if you needed me lately, he silently added. Alex had, and they’d barely been much more than acquaintances before.   
“As far as Alex goes, he’s just a friend. You’re the one who told me, some things don’t have to change, remember?” he added softly.   
Michael’s eyes darted to his face. He shrugged and one side of his mouth rose in a sceptic smile.  
“Whatever,” he answered in a more friendly voice.

Brian exhaled silently. Things seemed back to status quo at least.   
Michael leaned back into his hand for a minute and then clapped both hands on his thighs and rose. “I’ve got the get going. I haven’t done inventory at the shop for ages.”

Emmett murmured something about appointments with a relieved expression and slid out of the booth ahead of Ted. Brian rose to allow Michael to get out and sat back down briefly to finish the congealed leftovers of his unwanted breakfast while the three made their way towards the door with greetings and brief slaps to his shoulder.

With a disgusted expression he threw down the fork and left the remaining egg on the plate. Rising and gathering the briefcase at his feet, he made his way over to the counter where Debbie still reigned.  
She looked up briefly and then accepted the large bill, he threw down in front of her.  
A noise to the right distracted him and he shook his head as a flashy looking transvestite tried to pull up too short panty hose in vain and tipped over a cup in the process.   
“What are you doing?” The question took him by surprise and he turned back to Debbie. She was looking at him strictly, glossy lips tightened and arms crossed across an ample bosom.   
“What am I doing?” he asked pointedly with wide eyes.   
“Don’t be smart with me.” He could almost feel the slap to the back of his head that she couldn’t reach to give him across the counter.   
She continued: “I know that Alex of yours. I hadn’t seen him around for years, but now he comes in once in a while.”   
“So?” He’d be damned, if he was going to make this any easier on her.   
“I looked after Vic for years. You think I don’t know the signs, even if Michael has too much on his mind to notice right now?”   
Brian sighed, “look Debbie…” he shook his head tiredly.   
“Why the secrecy? That’s all I’m asking. I know things between you and Michael haven’t been easy since before the bomb but he’s still your friend. I’m still your friend.”   
Debbie turned the handle on the coffeepot and straightened the bowl of sweetener with harried movements.

Brian sighed and leaned on both arms across the counter. He bit the lower lip and frowned in attempt to find the right words.  
“Maybe because you have enough death looming in your family as it is. You don’t need to be dragged into any more through me,” he said with quiet brutal honesty.   
Debbie’s movements stilled and he watched her eyes soften at the finality of his words.   
Fuck, the last thing he wanted was another dose of pity. 

She reached out and patted his cheek with a soft, dry hand.  
“Just be fucking careful will you? It’s enough that I have to deal with Ben, not that I haven’t come to terms with him and Michael long ago. But I don’t want to have to worry about you too.”   
His smile was little more than a grimace at the irony of her words, considering his usual lifestyle. “Relax Debbie; it’s not HIV, its cancer.”   
Her eyes softened another notch and she reached clear across the counter and pulled him into an awkward hug. 

Brian held her close for a moment. As he pulled back, he came face to face with a startled, devastated-looking Ted who had obviously overheard the last part of the sentence.   
Ted lifted his hand in an ineffectual gesture, eyes darkened with painful compassion.  
“Brian, I… I’m sorry, I just came back to remind you I won’t be in until a little later, I…” his voice faltered.   
Acknowledging Debbie with one last glance, he reached out and steered Ted towards the door with a hand on the other man’s back.   
It was almost funny. It would have been if not for the memory of Ted’s reaction, not to mention help, during those few painful weeks of treatments himself.   
“Take it easy, it’s not me,” he told Ted, as they passed through the diner. 

Ted paused and looked at him with furrowed brows. Brian waited patiently as comprehension dawned on the other’s features.   
“Oh…I see…No wonder you didn’t want Gus to meet him then,” Ted finally said as he passed through the door, Brian held open for him.   
He paused and opened his mouth, looking as awkward as only he could.   
“Sorry, I didn’t mean that quite the way…”   
Brian took pity on him and interrupted: “Don’t. It’s fine. I know what you meant.”

“Look… I…if there is anything I can do?” Ted stumbled over the words and closed his eyes with a disgusted sigh at his lack of eloquence.   
Brian smiled wryly, knowing the feeling.   
“Yeah” he mouthed and clapped the other man’s shoulder before turning and heading towards the curb and the sight of the sun streaking across the dusty green curves of the Corvette.


	7. November 2nd 2005, Pittsburgh

The distant fluorescent streetlights from the city mixed with the grey remnants of daylight filtrated through the curtains of the loft, sending pale yellowed moonbeams across the hardwood floors in the living space otherwise mostly illuminated by the blue tones coming from the large flat screen television and the single light perched precariously next to the laptop on the coffee table.

Brian cursed and tapped a couple of keys on the computer impatiently, the fabric of his worn white t-shirt stretching across his shoulders, as he leaned forward from his perched position on the couch.   
Alex raised his head and looked at him from beneath a blanket at the corner of the Italian leather sofa. “You’re not even looking at the film,” he commented while a young actor swaggered across the screen defiantly in black and white.   
“Don’t have to,” Brian replied without taking his eyes of the stubborn graphics on the smaller screen in front of him. “Seen it enough times to know when to look.”   
It had been one of the few black and white films, he’d ever gotten Justin to actually finish watching, even if they’d gotten sidetracked the first few times.

Alex opened his mouth, and then shook his head smiling a little, tiredly.   
“Don’t start,” Brian shifted Italics and fiddled with some shading without ever looking up.   
“What?” Alex stretched a foot and nudged Brian’s hip.   
“Going all Freud on me.” Brian caught the sock clad foot and dug his fingers into a ticklish spot before releasing it.   
Alex laugh caught in his throat and ended in a breathless, painful sound. Brian turned his head with an assessing look.

Alex waved him off irritably. “I’m fine. You know, if I was going to start analyzing your behaviour, your fixation on James Dean, probably isn’t where I’d start.   
“Freud might, I’ll give you that,” he continued and shifted into a more upright position.   
“I think, it’d be more challenging to find out why you’re so content to hang out with a dying man.   
“It’s so…not gay of you,” he ended, tilting his head slightly and offering a tiny quirk of lips.

Brian’s eyebrows lifted in exasperation. He looked at the television trying to come up with an answer that would satisfy the curiosity without opening up for further discussion.   
Surely spending years with the world’s most inquisitive little shit ought to have been good for some experience? So what if he had been spending a lot of time just hanging out lately? Alex was, if nothing else, a rather pleasant and especially a non-committal background noise while he worked at the loft which was most nights anyways. 

“Maybe you remind me to appreciate, how I’m going to continue being young and beautiful.” He balanced the sarcasm with gentleness attempting to ward off any unintentional callousness.   
Alex snorted. “Who told you that crap?”   
“Growing old and wrinkled is how you know you’ve lived. I’m the one who will always be young and…. relatively beautiful. For all the good that it’ll do me,” he continued with a vague gesture and a tired smile.

Brian tapped his fingers against the corner of the keyboard and then forced himself to look up. As he tentatively reached out a hand, the muted voice coming from the television penetrated the sudden silence.  
“I don't know what to do anymore. Except maybe die.” James Dean spoke on the screen.

They looked at each other for the span of a few seconds. Alex leaned forward into the fingers now reaching out and gently ruffling his hair as they both laughed helplessly.   
“That’s the spirit Dean, not to mention the timing,” Brian said ironically while Alex snickered and shook his head.   
Brian slowly withdrew his fingers and cleared his throat. He had been trying to find a way to raise the subject of Alex’ rapid decline over the last few days. How the fuck did you ask someone, if he needed more help than a couch to crash on for the afternoon? Especially someone who had been so adamant about not making a big issue of dying in front of his parents or any of the other few people who knew?

Alex looked at him, eyes softening to the colour of warm chocolate.  
“Brian, don’t, I…”   
They were interrupted by a persistent banging noise from the door at the other side of the loft.  
“Now what the fuck?” Brian growled and slowly rose from the couch, stretching the sore muscles at the back of his neck.  
He’d turned off the phone a couple of hours earlier after being interrupted incessantly by any number of people, he frankly couldn’t be bothered talking to today including the Gay and Lesbian Centre who actually still had the goddamn nerve to ask for donations and his sister who didn’t even bother to ask but rather demanded it for saint Joan’s deteriorating health. Now there was an unworthy cause!

He stalked across the hardwood floor on bare feet and forcefully pulled the door back with a grim expression.  
“This had fucking better be good,” he said and then looked up to see his visitor.   
At the sight of Ted standing in the hallway looking rain-soaked and bedraggled as he struggled with several plastic bags and a thin leather folder clutched against his chest, Brian sighed and swept a hand towards the interior of the loft with a resigned expression.   
“Quit being so testy. Would I be here if it wasn’t?” Ted shot back and marched to the middle of the room before looking around as if to decide where to unload the various bags and then spotting Alex once again reclining on the couch.

Ted’s face sobered. “Hey Alex,” he nodded. Alex smiled back in greeting. They’d seen each other on a few occasions since Brian’s inadvertent revelation at the diner.  
Brian had been pleasantly surprised by Ted’s capacity for dealing with the situation in front of Alex after the initial awkwardness. Not so surprisingly, Ted had also in his usual discreet way not breathed a word to anyone else.

“So to what do we owe the pleasure of your company Theodore?” Brian said and bit his lower lip.   
“I’ve brought you the new revised Liberty Air contract. The new legal aide finally got the last additions in by this afternoon and not one moment too soon either.   
“They’re expecting it tomorrow, so I figured I’d come here and get your signature and then get it to the messenger service tonight.” Ted explained briskly and settled most of his paraphernalia on the coffee table before expertly unzipping the leather folder and presenting Brian with the documents and a pen. 

Brian accepted the pen and scanned the papers briefly before scratching his name across the line at the bottom of the last page.   
“Thanks” he muttered ruefully. He should have remembered that contract himself. Somehow Kinnetik was starting to take on a life of its own these days.   
“It’s what you pay me for,” Ted replied smartly. Brian looked at him pointedly and returned the folder with a raised eye brow.

“By the way Emm called wanting to know, if he can rent Babylon in January for some event, he’s the planner on. Michael needs you to call him back about Thanksgiving plans, something about flight schedules,” Ted said, ticking off a mental list on his fingers.   
“Oh and your cleaning lady wants to know, if she can come Wednesdays instead of Thursdays,” he continued with a glimpse of humour buried deep underneath the polished professional veneer.

Brian groaned and rolled his eyes. “I switched off the fucking phone for a couple of hours after coming back from the Schwartz meeting,” he offered as apology.   
“We figured as much,” Ted said, frowning sympathetically.   
“So….,” he continued and picked up a small blue bag from the table where he had left them a few minutes earlier. “Cynthia and I decided to get you a little present,” he said cheerfully.   
Brian eyed the bag suspiciously and accepted it with a questioning look at Ted. Behind them Alex switched off the television and settled back on the couch.

Reaching in, Brian extracted the small cardboard box and then looked back at Ted with raised eyebrows.  
“This is a pager?” Then cursed inwardly. State the obvious why don’t you Kinney?   
“Yeah,” Ted nodded eagerly. “Cynthia and I decided, it was about time you had one. That way we can always reach you in cases of emergency, even if you need to switch your phone off once in while,” he said.   
“We won’t give out the number to anyone. Scouts honour,” he continued, holding a couple fingers to the side of his face and smiling across to a chuckling Alex.

Brian watched the look that passed between them and sighed. “I suppose that might work,” he said gruffly and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck before gingerly opening the box and picking out the small electronic device inside and then stuffing it inside the pocket of his faded jeans, as he slowly walked towards the kitchen.

“You want a drink Ted?” he asked belatedly.   
“No thanks Bri. I’ve got to pick up Blake at the Centre and then drop the contract off, but thanks anyways.”   
“Give my best to Mrs. Schmidt,” Brian met him at the door and started to pull it open.   
Ted gave him a baleful look before waving at Alex and then nodding his head in the same direction.  
“By the way I brought you some Thai-food. Figured you’d be hungry if you’ve been cooped up here all afternoon.”   
Brian nodded back in acknowledgement. “Have I ever told you what an excellent little housekeeper you make?” he said with sarcastic smoothness.

“No,” Ted said, as he passed through the door, “but at the rate you’re paying me Bri, I figure, it’s no skin off my back,” he deflected and glanced back, eyes caring, before disappearing around the corner.

Brian stood quietly in the doorway listening to the sound of his footsteps down the stairs. He then shut the door and fetched utensils and beer in kitchen before approaching the remaining items crowding his laptop on the clear glass table.   
He opened the bags and leaned down, checking the contents before spreading the little steaming white cardboard boxes out in front of the couch.   
“You want the noodles?” Brian offered one of the boxes to Alex.   
“No thanks. I can’t” Alex wrinkled his face and looked at the box with apathy.

Brian paused and then picked up a fork and held out the box regardless.  
“Well force yourself,” he said succinctly.   
“You know, you shouldn’t tease poor Schmidt. For someone who must have had a pretty wicked childhood to end up this complicated you make a pretty good mother yourself” Alex said wincing and accepted the food with reluctance.   
Brian laughed bitterly and opened a beer bottle, upending it at his lips in one fluid movement as he sat down.

“Sorry, I seem to have a knack for discovering all your sore spots, don’t I?” Alex said quietly.   
“Like you said, it’s an occupational hazard, “Brian fondled the cool bottle between his fingers before settling it back on the table.   
“You’d get a kick out of meeting my mother though.” he laughed bitterly.   
“Yeah?” The question was unobtrusive, inviting and somehow intimately comforting.   
“She’d love to meet you too. You’d be the, um, living proof that cancer really is God’s punishment for fucking other guys, unlike me who got off a little too easy,” Brian continued, looking down at his fingers and carefully unclenched the fists, he’d unconsciously made, wondering what had gotten into him.

Alex made a small sound and startled him by moving sideways and pulling him back across his lap.  
Brian sprawled on top of him, too surprised to move, as he felt the other man’s arms circle his back and hug him tight.   
“That’s bullshit,” Alex whispered tenderly in a hoarse voice.

They remained motionless for a while.   
Brian felt the warm unsteady breath against his cheek and silently wondered why he wasn’t pulling back. Why suddenly, just for a brief moment, he didn’t want to pull back?   
He closed his eyes and exhaled in something resembling pain as he leaned his forehead against Alex’ and felt the roughened stubble on a chin slide against his lips slowly, sending life through what felt like rusty nerve endings.   
Feeling a feeble push against his chest, he reopened his eyes to find Alex looking at him through suddenly red-rimmed eyes.   
“No, don’t do this. Brian, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” his voice broke.

Brian pulled back and put distance between them “What the fuck for?” he said harshly, unable to take his eyes of the heart broken expression on the other man’s face.   
“For letting things get out of hand. I didn’t realize….I don’t want you to be hurt, Brian,” Alex choked out.   
“Nothing happened and why would I be hurt? Brian shrugged angrily. 

He looked away, fixing his sight on a spot far side wall where a simplistic grey and deep dark blue Taylor original had replaced previously larger and gaudier paintings.   
Nothing had happened. He repeated the words inside his head, trying to block out the sound of unsteady, almost sobbing breathing next to him. He hated the guilt winding its way through his chest painfully. 

It had been one moment’s weakness. Just one moment of letting go and being fucking lonely. He nearly laughed. How was that for getting in touch with your feelings? Too bad Justin wasn’t around to benefit from this sudden sentimentality. But that was just it. Justin wasn’t there. He was fucking gone and he wasn’t coming back.   
The closest thing would be a few dabs of paint on another canvass and a voice on the phone, sounding more vibrant and fiercely independent for every time they spoke.   
It was as if New York was revitalizing Justin and doing what Brian had never managed, undoing the damage instead of creating more and bringing back the brave, exuberant person he’d had been before the bashing. Before Brian had even realized how much he….Shit. 

He closed his eyes, as they began to sting and dug his fingers painfully into his knees.   
Alex’ voice broke into his thoughts again: “Because I let you down.   
“Why do you think, I’ve never seriously went after you back before you met Justin?   
“I know you have a self destructive streak that’s a mile long and I never should have fooled myself that I could cling to you now and not hurt you in the process,” Alex’ said with raised intensity.

Brian peered over at him again and swore beneath his breath at the sight of a hand, wiping away a few stray tears on Alex’s face.   
“That’s not what this is,” Brian suddenly said determinedly and gestured between them, wanting to distance him from the way things were going.   
“I realize, that if you weren’t dying, you might want more from me, than I could probably give, but you are dying. Besides sorry is bullshit, so stop apologizing,” he said.   
“As far as I’m concerned, you helped me when Justin was hurt and I couldn’t reach him, remember? If not for you, I might never have been able to undo at least some of the damage, I caused him.   
“The fact that you seem to be the only person I can stand to be around for hours at a time these days doesn’t hurt either.   
“So why not let me help you in return and leave any regrets for me to deal with when that time comes. I can handle it just as I handled letting Justin go.”   
Brian breathed deeply after his unaccustomed long speech, unwilling to look at Alex after having revealed much more about his past, than he’d been willing to.

“I remember. I told you, he was trapped in his emotions like Rapunzel locked away in the tower and you needed to rescue him?” Alex smiled sadly and lifted his hand, tracing his thumb across Brian’s arm.   
“But even I didn’t realize how little you know about fairytales, so I forgot to explain something very important to you,” he continued and cleared his throat, looking up at Brian intently.

Brian returned the look silently.   
“I forgot to tell you, it’s a mutual rescue mission and not a hostage exchange,” Alex said, as Brian tentatively lifted the arm and grasped the back of the couch, making room at his side.   
“It doesn’t always have to be this way” he whispered painfully before leaning closer, resting his head against Brian’s arm and squeezing it gently.


	8. November 21 2005, Pittsburgh

The slides created daring, evocative splashes of colour against the backdrop of uneven sand coloured walls and the classic white and steel lines of the expensive conference room trappings. 

The audience’s attention darted across them as their main focus used the expanse of the room as a stage from where he was pitching his speech.  
The sleek lines of midnight grey pinstriped Armani discreetly stretching across broad shoulders blended into the surroundings perfectly and left only the gestures of elegantly strong fingers and the persuasive timbre of a well-modulated voice to provide a seductive distraction from what should have been the main object of their interest.   
“And this is why,” Brian pointed to the sexually charged message on the board to his left.  
“If you let Kinnetik handle your campaign…,” he smiled provocatively to the lone woman amongst the boringly straight men representing the prospective new client.   
She returned the smile and crossed her arms across a subtly displayed cleavage leaving the other man at her side gaping.   
“…you can be sure we can take your product wherever you want it to go,” Brian finished, hazel eyes flashing with challenge and confidence as long fingers came to rest against the chair at head of the table in a subtle gesture of dominance. 

He watched the awed expression of the business associates in front of him with satisfaction and acted the cordial host as they deliberated and then finally exited leaving behind enough work to merit at least another couple of additions to the staff already crowding the offices in the old Everhard Spa building.   
He gathered the papers in the portfolio at his seat with a pleased, wearied sigh and walked the circuitous route through the hallway of the building, for once oblivious to the admiring and congratulatory smiles the office staff sent him. 

Cynthia, having shown the visitors out, sat on the edge of her desk, legs stretched out as far as her own tighter, matching set of pinstripes would allow. She stretched out a hand in a wordless gesture with a satisfied, almost feral smirk, as he walked by and deposited the folder in her hand before silently continuing, pushing aside the transparent door to the sanctity of his office and ignoring the calls of his new secretary, waving a handful of yellow phone messages in her hand. 

The office was blissfully quiet, as he walked slowly past the glass partitions and across the floor to the trolley positioned against the wall on the further side. The clink of glasses and the faint metallic protest of a bottle top being opened were the only sounds penetrating the exhausted haze, his mind slowly slipped into, as he slumped against the wall momentarily.   
The sound of footsteps approaching made him straightened up again and peer above the rim of a crystal tumbler to the sight of a professionally yet smart-looking Ted, walking briskly into the office.  
Brian choked down on a protest about knocking, as he realized, he hadn’t even had the presence of mind to shut the glass door behind him when he’d entered a few moments earlier. Shit. He put down the glass.   
“Bri, I figured, I’d give you the latest financial updates on Babylon, before you go there tonight celebrating your latest conquest…. Are you alright?” his voice tapered off at the end and Brian caught the startled concerned look replacing his congratulatory greeting.   
Brian nodded tiredly and gestured towards the desk.   
“Give me the highlights while I check my e-mails,” he managed in a hopefully professional voice.   
“Oh and while I remember, get Cynthia to book a table at La Chiquita for you and the art department and then tell the rest of them, it’s their turn as soon, as we get this order processed.   
“And be sure to tell them, it’s not a bonus; it’s a bribe, for hardships yet to descend upon them,” he drawled as he sat down on the edge of the desk facing the door.   
Ted nodded and patiently pitched into series of numbers and percentages at his side while Brian absently turned the laptop and scrolled through the numbers of e-mails having rolled in while they’d been cooped up in the conference room. 

One particular sender distracted him. Alex hadn’t emailed him before. But then he hadn’t seen the now ailing man for a couple of days while preparing for this morning’s conference. By silent agreement they’d settled back into easy undemanding platonic friendship, after things had gotten a little out of hand.   
He was getting to be as much an expert on undemanding platonic friendships as he was on undemanding unplatonic sex, Brian thought with a pang of frustrated regret.   
He tapped a finger absentmindedly on the touch pad to open the e-mail and gave Ted a perfunctory nod, as the satisfactory numbers were paraded by his semi-concentrated mind. 

The words on the screen blended with Ted’s smooth, practised vocals in an almost surreal mix until the sound of a fist smashed into the desk abruptly ended Ted’s litany.  
“Fuck. no, no!” Brian exclaimed and sprang to his feet, oblivious to the pain in his right hand.   
“Bri, what is it?” Ted asked shocked and leaned over, trying to read the words on the screen.   
Brian shook his head and walked to the other side of his room in a few frantic strides, grabbing his coat and turning on his heel, heading towards the door.   
“Alex is going to Ibiza? I don’t understand. Is everything alright?” Ted called after him beseechingly. 

He didn’t answer. Fuck. He’d almost forgotten about their conversation on that first day at the doctor’s. Of all the fucking times for someone to actually take his advice!   
Damn, Brian thought, half curse, half prayer. If only he’d seen that e-mail sooner….   
He came to an abrupt halt at the door where Cynthia blocked the exit, features arranged into a questioning frown at the sight of him.  
“Stella said, there was a woman, a Mrs. Wilder, on the phone asking for you a few minutes ago. I wouldn’t have bothered you, except she was apparently crying and insisting, she had to tell you something…,” she said bewildered. 

Brain slowly relaxed the arms, he had lifted to push her out of the way and let them sink to his sides.   
If Alex mother was crying on the phone, there was obviously no longer any need to hurry, he thought dejectedly. Too late…like always. Fuck.   
He watched the lines of the glass partitions blur in front of him, the exhausted dizziness returning with a vengeance. 

“Brian?” the softly trembling voice was unlike any, he’d ever heard from his female counterpart.  
He blinked, forcing himself to focus on the helpless expression spreading across her features. This would have been almost funny, except it wasn’t. This isn’t fair; he thought almost detachedly, as he felt the fatigue roll through his body although he remained standing, expressionless.   
“Come on Bri,” the softly spoken words from behind, finally penetrated the thick fog of his mind and he turned his head to see Ted looking at him compassionately with dawning understanding and waving Cynthia away. 

Guided by gentle but capable hands, he let himself be led to the seating arrangements and slowly bended his knees, sinking into the comfortable white cushions.   
“Is there anything I can do?” Ted asked, his brown eyes concerned and anxious, as he sat down on the armrest besides Brian.   
Brain laughed briefly and bitterly.

“I meant about the arrangements. I assume he’s…,” Ted swallowed.   
“Isn’t there something I can help with? As I recall his parents are quite elderly aren’t they? What about notifications?” he rattled on nervously.   
Brian shrugged and, before he had time to control himself, lashed out: “One thing he didn’t want was a fuss, so stop making one,” he said and closed his eyes, instantly regretting the outburst.   
“Stop being an ass Bri, it won’t kill you to let someone be your friend for once,” Ted retaliated in a hurt voice and shoved a hand ineffectually against Brian’s slumped shoulder.   
“No?” Brian looked at him sideways between the hands cupping his face. “Funny, because it kind of feels that way,” he forced out with a mirthless laugh.   
Ted’s fingers curled around his shoulder in a firm grip. “Look, I know I’m not very good in these kinds of situations but please…..just for once accept that I am your friend and let me help,” he said in a painfully sincere voice. 

Brian looked at him again and leaned a little against the hand at his shoulder in a silent apology.   
“There’s an ex in Cleveland who probably should be told even though by all appearances, he is an asshole,” he started haltingly and took a deep breath before continuing: “Todd will know the details and I guess, we should tell whoever knew him around here. I’m sure some of them his mother didn’t know about….I should call her back.”   
Brian dug fingers into his scalp in an attempt to gain control of scattered thoughts. 

“I’ll call everyone and let them know,” Ted nodded and drew small comforting circles on the back of his friend’s shoulder.   
“Do you want me to call Michael as well?” he continued.   
“He barely knew Alex,” Brian answered tonelessly.   
“No, I meant for…,” Ted’s voice faltered and he gestured helplessly.   
Brian shot him a look and then pulled himself together, forcing himself to remember the look on Alex’ tear streaked face.   
It doesn’t always have to be this way.   
“No need” he said gently but firmly and then stopped the potential protest by an unaccustomed peck to the lips to the flustered Ted as he rose and went in search of his secretary.


	9. November 22nd 2005, Pittsburgh

The music thumped enthusiastically in repetitious transitions between throbbing rhythm and high crescendos as long rows of toned, polished male bodies writhed and swayed their way in energetic circles around the dance floor of Babylon. 

Flashing projectors at the ceiling covered the room in sweeping arches of red and silver lights before finally reflecting themselves in the familiar mix of cheap cocktail glasses and the long necked beer bottles at the bar to the back of the room. 

Even further back, the lights were dimmed to an intimate orange and the music filtered through partitions and around an artificially constructed corner until it was little more than a beat underscoring the various masculine moans and a single high-pitched mewling sound from a tall thin youth in a pink halter top and leather pants shoved down around his bent knees.  
Brian shot him a disgusted glare across the room before reaching down to zip up his black jeans with quick efficient movements of his right hand while the left still used the broad back in front of him for leverage.

As the trick moved to turn around, Brian swayed imperceptibly, shaking his head slightly to dispel the lingering effects of too much Chivas. At least that had been good quality; he thought annoyed and turned his head to avoid the eager sloppy kiss being directed at him.   
With what barely passed as a smile, he managed to extricate himself from the buff brunette fondling the front of his sleeveless burgundy shirt and make his way towards the hallway and into the main room of the club, stopping only to receive a sympathetic glance in exchange for a friendly slap to the shoulder of an otherwise occupied Todd.   
What was it Justin had once told him when he’d almost had to sell the loft? That he might be a pauper but he drank like a prince. He chuckled as he made his way past the flailing arms of an eagerly gyrating queen. Alex would have gotten a kick out of dissecting the poor sex reference, or maybe that was Freud? Who the hell cared? He thought as the smile slowly slipped. It was all the same now anyways. 

He pressed a thumb against the aching spot above the bridge of his nose where the throbbing headache seemed to be centred and decided he wasn’t nearly drunk enough. Just because Alex hadn’t wanted a memorial service didn’t mean they couldn’t have an Irish wake did it?  
No more Chivas though, a beer should do the trick. After all, variety was everything, wasn’t it? He subconsciously clenched a fist.   
The throng of people at the bar parted almost imperceptively, creating an open path straight to the shiny surface of the back-lit bar. He grabbed hold of the blank white surface and exchanged nods with the muscular black-haired bartender who hastily dried his hands on a white apron slung around lean hips and approached with a lopsided grin.

Hearing his name spoken above the loudness of the disco beat, Brian turned his head and looked directly into a pair of worried-looking eyes beneath the sparkle and glitter of carefully applied make-up.  
“Emmett,” he acknowledged and turned back to the bar, finding to his annoyance that a glass of amber liquid had already been placed in front of him instead of the cold Stella Artois, he had been contemplating. Oh what the hell. He tossed back the whisky and felt the satisfactory slow warmth travel through his throat and settle in his stomach.   
He set the glass back on the counter, gesturing a refill at the satisfied-looking bartender. 

“You’re being uncharacteristically quiet tonight,” he said after a pause and turned to the still silent Emmett again with a deceptively placid smile.   
Emmett sighed and smoothed his palms down along the curve of his narrow hips. “There isn’t much to say, is there?” he asked and leaned his head slightly to one side in sympathy. “Except, that I’m sorry. I really liked Alex,” his voice had a quiet and surprisingly throaty quality to it.

Brian flexed the muscle of one arm and held on it with the other. “Yeah well, life goes on,” he said with a slightly bitter philosophical twist.  
He scanned the dance floor and spotted the muscular height of Ben clearing the way for the more timid form of Michael, as they both approached the bar.  
“Besides, in here nothing fortunately ever changes. Still lots of booze, drugs and pretty boys to go ‘round,” he smirked deliberately and turned to greet his friends in order to avoid the saddened and slightly disappointed look, Emmett sent him. 

Michael closed the last few steps between them and reached out. Brian felt rather than heard the muffled regrets being voiced into his chest, as he met the sombre gaze of Ben’s above the dark wavy head of hair pressed against his shoulder.   
“I’m fabulous,” he replied to Michael’s questions. 

“So professor,” he continued conversationally. “How’s the new book coming? Almost done?  
Ben gave him an uncertain smile and murmured something affirmative.   
Brian looked down at Michael again and gently extricated himself from the embrace, suddenly feeling tired and slightly more intoxicated.   
“What are you guys having?” he asked with a slight slur and gestured at the ever vigilant bartender.   
Ben and Michael exchanged a silent glance while Emmett waved a freshly refilled pink confection in the air with forced enthusiasm.   
Brian shrugged and drank the contents of his glass with a grimace before gesticulating for yet another refill. 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Michael’s voice had that annoyingly earnest twang to it.   
Brian lifted a finger and pushed at his chest. “Mikey, how many times do I have to tell you, there is no such thing as enough.” Even though he’d attempted to make it a joke, the sound of his voice had enough force to create a hush in the crowd around them.   
The bartender looked at him nervously and hovered a few feet away, fondling the refilled glass between fidgeting hands. 

“Brian, you’ve got to stop this self-destructive shit” Michael hissed anxiously as he regained the balance after being pushed.   
“I’ve got to stop?” Brian cried out incredulously. He leaned back against the bar and threw his head back and breathed deeply in an attempt to listen to the inner voice telling him to shut up and get out of there before he did something really stupid along the lines of when he had accused his best friend of infecting his partner with asinine ideas. But honestly, now apparently he was supposed to stop?   
The initial surge of anger was replaced by a wearied sadness that threatened to crush the breath out of his chest. Ah Christ Michael, when did we both become so predictable?  
For a moment, he thought, he’d said the words out loud but beneath the throbbing rhythm of the music there was still a deafening silence. 

Very carefully he stretched out a hand and lifted the glass from the counter where the bartender had reluctantly placed it. He twirled the contents around a few times before lifting it to his lips and draining it. This time the burn of the alcohol barely registered through the spreading numbness. Good. Finally. 

He took a step forward again, towards Michael and saw Ben’s eyes narrow slightly in apprehension. The tall man stepped forward, the blue cotton of his shirt stretching across a broad chest as he instinctively got ready to block his access and Brian simultaneously felt a surprisingly unfeminine strong grip around the back.   
He looked back and gave Emmett a small reassuring smile before patting a bulging arm in passing and finally reaching out, grabbing Michael’s face. His old friend blinked and his gaze softened as Brian looked into his eyes calmly.   
“It’s ok Mikey, he whispered into his ear and fondled a few dark locks of hair, “I’ll always be young and beautiful remember?”   
He straightened and put on his best rendition of a dazzling smile, inwardly telling the ghost of Alex in his head to shut the fuck up.   
“Cheer up guys. This is supposed to be a gay club remember? Now if you’ll excuse me. I think there might be one or two new assholes left at the baths, I haven’t fucked yet.”   
He turned away from the confused and slightly disappointed expression of Michael and towards the main expanse of the room, pausing as something in the crowd at the doors leading to the street inexplicably caught his attention. 

He let his gaze drift slowly across the usual selection of gay Pittsburgh until his eyes caught a glimpse of a familiar lithe movement, partly obscured by the taller people in between.   
Brian slowly shook his head in disbelief. No way. Maybe he should have paid better attention to what the doctor had told him back then because now for the life of him, he couldn’t remember if delusions were supposed to be a stress symptom too.  
Thanksgiving was only a few days away, but according to Debbie and everyone else he’d more or less overtly questioned on the subject lately, Justin had opted to stay in New York for Thanksgiving, as he’d hinted at a couple of weeks before, the last time they’d spoken. 

A blond head ducked out from behind what was either a freak of nature or an obvious steroid case and Brian’s breath caught painfully in his chest at the sight of the familiar slender form. He froze and stood rooted to the floor as he watched recognition followed by various emotions wash across Justin’s features, as the younger man pushed his way towards him resolutely.   
“Hey,” Brian managed hoarsely as Justin finally stood in front of him, quickly pushing aside the messenger bag and standing on tip-toe to wrap arms around his neck carefully.   
“Hey. You ok?” Justin asked against his throat.   
Brian swallowed before continuing gamely: “Christ not you too. I’m fine. Why does everyone assume, I’ll fall apart because an acqua …..a friend dies?   
“He was sick, it was time,” he shrugged against the confines of the arms resting atop of his own. 

“You’re so full of shit,” Justin’s decisive voice had an underlying tone of affection that went straight to Brian’s nerve endings and crumbled his defences, until he stood there trembling.   
“Well you would know,” he acknowledged softly and felt his own weight sag against the other’s slighter body.   
Justin’s grip changed and he felt the arms around him tighten forcefully until they were neck to neck and he could feel the soothing kisses being pressed against his ear and collarbone.  
He turned and pressed his face into the blond mop of hair at his shoulder. “Can we get out of here?” he asked.


	10. November 22nd 2005, Pittsburgh - later that night

The ride to the loft had been virtually silent apart from the Corvette’s throaty purr. Brian looked away from the windscreen and the street lights gliding past in hypnotic recurring flashes and into his lap where Justin’s hand rested casually in between gearshift. He felt the muscles in his thigh, amongst others, leap involuntarily at the touch. Somehow his body was managing to completely neglect any notions of how fucking complicated things were. The small matter of having swallowed enough whisky to drown a horse hadn’t given cause to any noticeable restraint either. 

A few fingers slid down the length of his thigh and ended just on the inside of his knee. Brian swallowed another groan and sneaked a disbelieving look at his silent driver.   
God, he wanted to bury himself so hard and so deeply in the warmth of the body next to him, that he never had to come out again.   
“Ted called me,” Justin finally spoke, in a casual voice. Brian looked at him sharply.   
“He was worried about you,” Justin shrugged and shifted gears again, slowing down before the last intersection.

Brian rubbed a few fingers across his chin and took a deep breath before speaking.  
“You know how maternal Ted gets. I’m okay. He was sick….h” He paused in response to the warning look, he received.   
“I mean, I knew from the start that he was sick and besides he was just an old friend. It wasn’t….,” he continued, disgusted at himself and the entire conversation. How pathetic. How utterly…Fuck.   
“I know, you told me the day, you met him again, remember?” Their eyes met for a brief moment until Justin calmly directed his attention back to the traffic.   
“I guess, I did,” Brian said and bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully.   
“Justin, you should have called instead of coming,” he continued awkwardly.   
“Don’t fucking start again,” Justin snapped in response, eyes flashing for the first time.   
“No, I mean…” Brian bit his lip again and reached out, laying his hand on Justin’s thigh for the first time.   
“I’ve got a conference in Chicago first thing tomorrow and I fly straight from there to the Munchers’ pumpkin feast. You shouldn’t have spent money coming back here,” his hand rubbed against the soft worn denim beneath his hands in a hopefully placating manner.   
“It’s alright,” Justin exhaled and reached down and squeezed Brian’s fingers. “Mom will be pleased to see me and besides I got a new commission this week. I can afford it,” he said and deftly manoeuvred the car to a halt at the side of the building. 

Once inside the building, Brian stepped aside, allowing Justin to precede him into the old lift before shutting the door behind them and pressing the correct button.   
The elevator groaned and slowly hauled itself those first few torturous inches of the floor.   
Brian turned and looked at Justin in the harsh light from the naked strip light in the ceiling, details fastening in his mind for the first time.   
His hair looked a little darker and a little longer than last. The cargo pants hung a little low on narrow hips or maybe it was just the style rather than the body beneath.   
Brian’s fingers unfurled and reached unconsciously, curling themselves around the strops and pulling, until he could feel the warm breath against his chin and the warmth emanating from the body almost close enough to be touching.

Their eyes met. Justin’s seemed impossibly large and unfathomable above higher cheekbones than Brian remembered.   
The groaning sound came to an abrupt halt and they stumbled apart. Justin lead the way, pushing and pulling at the old industrial doors until they were standing in the wide expanse of the loft, looking at each other as if unsure how to proceed. 

Brian watched Justin’s eyes widen and then slowly flutter shut, as he took a deep breath and closed the distance between them.   
“I missed you,” he whispered, keeping his eyes fixed on the collar of Justin’s faded old white leather jacket where it had been raised to keep out the cold early November wind and wishing fervently that it would be enough. That there would be no more talk tonight. That Justin wouldn’t ask that which he had every right to but would surely shatter whatever precarious hold of his emotions Brian had left.   
Justin slowly raised his arms and places them on Brian’s shoulders, arms dangling loosely for a moment before tightening almost painfully behind his neck and pulling him down.   
Their mouths met and meshed together with an almost bruising intensity. Brian groaned deep into his throat and reached down below the small of Justin’s back, pulling him up along his still unruly body, until their hips met.   
Using Brian’s shoulders as leverage, Justin clung to him, releasing his mouth but kissing his cheeks and following a path across his neck and down to his shoulder fervently, pushing aside the burgundy fabric of the open shirt to gain access.  
Brian hissed, as he felt the gentle sting of teeth grazing his skin. He flexed his arms, practically carrying the smaller man the last stretch. They both stumbled, as he moved backwards up the stairs and onto a curled up duvet on the raised bed. 

Justin released his hold and stretched his arms forward instinctively to carry some of his weight. They stared at each other silently before Justin smiled softly, generously and slowly relaxed his grip, easing his weight back down on Brian’s body.   
Brian closed his eyes for a moment, revelling in the feel of agile fingers expertly tugging at clothes and buttons. He raised, first his arms and then his hips to allow space for the sliding feel of the fabric being pulled off completely.   
The first generous swipe of tongue across his abdomen had him groaning out loud and burying his fingers in the thick locks of hair, shining dark blond in the light from the wall above the bed.   
“Wait,” he forced the word out between gritted teeth and sat up, using Justin’s arms as leverage.   
“I want to be inside you,” he said, voice breaking with intensity.  
Justin looked up, meeting his gaze with so much need and longing in his eyes that Brian gasped and hooked his hands beneath Justin’s arms and unable to hold the eye contact, flipped him over.

He cursed against the curve of Justin’s spine, as his fingers clumsily saw to the necessary preparations before tossing the lube aside and finally grasping lean hips in order to bury his need deeply inside the waiting warmth.   
The both groaned at the familiar sensations as Brian leaned across Justin’s back and burrowed his face against the arched throat, presented to him when Justin leaned back his head and rested the back of his neck against Brian’s shoulder.

“Oh God,” Justin exhaled as if the breath had been forced out of his lungs when Brian slid forward and braided his fingers through Justin’s. Christ, he loved that sound, had missed it so much. So desperately.   
Who cared why Justin was doing it, how complicated things would be tomorrow? This was all that mattered.   
He held on tighter, curling himself around the solid heat of Justin’s body and moving in unison with his lover, letting his body take over control, thrusting harder in tune with his fist applying pressure faster and faster until they both ended with incoherent outbursts in a tangled heap on the bed.   
Once, he had discarded the used condom, he quickly wrapped his arms around his lover again, not wanting to relinquish contact for more than a few seconds and needing something to steady the tremors starting to spread throughout his body. God, he couldn’t do this. Couldn’t face all the multitude of feelings streaming through his system and threatening to steal what was left of his composure.   
“Brian,” the name was little more than a whisper of breath against his arm but the question implied shredded the last remnants of his control.   
“I’m so…,” he cleared his throat and burrowed deeper into the soft silky caress of hair in front of his face.   
“I’m just so fucking tired Justin,” he apologized, squeezing his eyes shut in a futile attempt to stem the moisture seeping from the corners.   
Justin hushed him gently and then shifted his left shoulder beneath their combined weight in order to wiggle his hip even closer back against Brian’s body in an achingly well-known move. 

Brian slid his arm further forward, up across Justin’s chest to where his other arm lay cradled underneath Justin’s head.   
The waves of exhaustion washed over him, as he felt the warm strength of the hands grasping his arm and his breath evened out at the continuous circles the slightly calloused fingers were drawing on his skin.

His last conscious thought was a fleeting illogical pang of regret that Justin after years of never being able to get him to leave things unspoken, now seemed content to quietly hold him.


	11. November 23th 2005, Pittsburgh

Rapidly cooling water slowed first to a trickle and finally down to a few droplets splashing gently against Brian’s back as he shook the worst of the wetness out of his hair. He bent over, retrieving the used condom before stepping out of the shower cubicle and dumping it in the trash with a sated sigh. 

The dry, voluminous warmth of a towel hit him in the chest and he caught it, hastily drying himself off and wrapping it around his body. He looked up, unable to discern the expression on Justin’s face as the younger man already stood leaned forward against the table in front of the steamed-up mirror. At least he was able to enjoy the sight of flushed pale skin curving down a shapely back to what had to be the most beautiful ass in the universe. 

Brian blinked and snapped out of his reverie as the sight of the watch he was strapping back on his wrist brought him crashing back to reality. Fuck, he only had about 15 minutes until the cab showed up to take him to the airport and any talking that they’d have to do was yet to start. At least that had been Justin’s own fault. Somehow waking up with your dick in someone’s mouth and especially _that_ mouth just wasn’t conducive to morning chatter.  

At the back of his head came the unsettling thought, that he was standing there already half-aroused again and yet contemplating starting an actual conversation while Justin had opted instead to find the spare toothbrush and brush already pearly white teeth with quiet violence.

Brian chewed his lip thoughtfully and looked at the vigorous movement with growing apprehension. This was starting to feel like Justin’s return from LA. Things hadn’t been quite as uncomplicated as they’d seemed on the surface back then either. 

He stepped up to the mirror and swiped a hand across it before picking up a comb and carelessly raking it through his hair.

 

Justin finally relinquished the toothbrush and their eyes met as he scooped up a mouthful of water.

Brian felt ridiculously relieved to see nothing worse than determined calmness in the light-coloured eyes regarding him through the steam. Justin cast a quick glance to his own watch still adorning the shiny surface of the sink. 

Brian picked up a razor, toying with the shaving gel for a moment before finally opening his mouth.

“I’m glad you came. I didn’t expect you to,” he said tentatively and shaved quickly with economical movements. 

“I know,” Justin replied gravely and then, as an afterthought, looked at him in the streaked mirror with the familiar mix of tenderness and exasperation before turning around and walking out towards the bedroom. 

Brian resisted the urge to roll his own eyes.

“Make sure you see Debbie, before you go back. She and the Bruckners are leaving tomorrow for Toronto and she’ll have my head on a platter, if you were here and didn’t let her feed you at least once,” he called after Justin who was picking up discarded clothes. 

Feeling the resentment of being the one reduced to small-talk, Brian stalked after him and ripped the dry cleaning bag, hanging on the closet door, donning the ready freshly laundered suit in quick economic movements. 

 

Justin pulled the sweater down over his head and leaned against the partitions, looking at his curt movements unapologetically. 

“You’re right, I should go see her. At the diner. Hunter’s alright now, isn’t he?” Justin frowned thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, has been for a few weeks. When was the last time you talked to any of them?” Brian straightened his tie.

“Awhile,” Justin replied and sighed. “Michael hasn’t exactly been willing to chat lately,” he pushed away from the screen and trailed behind Brian to the kitchen area. 

“Give him a break. Guy’s had a rough time with Hunter being sick and then having to catch up after barely starting college,” Brian stared at the coffeemaker for a second before opting for the fridge. 

“Wait a minute,” he continued after a moment’s silence. “Don’t tell me you guys still haven’t kissed and made up over the Rage thing,” he said disgusted and twisted the cap of a bottle of juice. 

“He hasn’t told you?” Justin approached with a questioning look and took the bottle out of his hands. 

“No.” Brian said curtly and looked away. Why were they talking about this anyways? It wasn’t any of his business anymore, who Justin did or didn’t talk to and he suddenly didn’t feel like wasting the last precious minutes dissecting the slow corrosion happening in his own friendship with Michael either. 

Justin swallowed a large gulp of juice and licked the remaining drops of his lips before handing back the bottle.

Brian took it with a sigh and sipped a few mouthfuls himself. 

“I don’t get why he’s so mad over Rage.” Justin suddenly continued, stubbornly clinging to the subject.

 

He leaned back against the counter and frowned. “I mean, we’d virtually agreed to stop even before the bomb when I wasn’t going anywhere but after I went to New York and working together wouldn’t be practical anymore, suddenly he has a huge issue with it?” 

Brian shrugged and carefully replaced the bottle in the fridge, lingering for a moment in waft of cool air. This wasn’t really a discussion, he cared to get into. 

“I…if it’s the money he needs, he could get another artist and keep going. The same reasoning applies if he’s doing it for gay rights which I’d certainly endorse.  

“For me the whole concept of Rage and Gayopolis is just neither challenging nor all that interesting anymore,” Justin gestured with both hands and stared at Brian intently. 

 

Brian’s head snapped up and he shot Justin a sharp, startled look before regaining control and walked to the table by the door, meticulously arranging phone and keys in his briefcase.

He could feel Justin’s eyes following his every move. 

“No?” the question escaped, before he was able to clamp down on the impulse 

“No.” Justin replied softly but firmly. “Maybe it’s my own fault,” he continued. 

“I used to talk to him about Rage a lot in the beginning, right after I moved. It…..it kind of made sleeping on someone else’s lumpy sofa, not knowing anyone and thinking that maybe I’d made the biggest mistake of my life a little easier. I’m grateful for that and for all the doors drawing Rage has opened for me.” 

Justin walked a few steps closer and traced the corner of the counter with one hand.

“But after a while….,” he continued, “Brian, I can’t even picture Gayopolis in my mind anymore after having lived in New York these past months.You walk out the door and just…the diversity and….the level of freedom…it’s like the city itself is this living breathing entity.” His voice had become animated and his eyes shone. 

Brian swallowed. He barely recognized this version of the kid, he’d once picked up on Liberty Avenue. Justin had always had the arrogance. Youth and breeding alone had seen to that, but he’d never exuded this kind of vibrant mature certainty before. 

He should feel pleased. This was exactly why he’d urged Justin to go in the first place. Why he’d never let Justin settle for playing house until after the bomb and he’d realized, he couldn’t possibly _not_ do it. 

 “I’m glad you’ve found what you were looking for,” he managed softly, turning his keys around in listless hands.

 

“Brian…,” Justin’s voice was suddenly quiet, filled with longing.

Brian’s fingers tightened painfully around the dull edges of the metal in his hands. 

“Damn you Brian,” Justin continued; the anger and frustration suddenly bubbling through the surface. 

“What else do you want me to say?” Brian said with quiet candour, before suddenly recalling a similar situation and sighing, shaking his head almost imperceptively. 

Justin stared at him as the old words hovered in between them like a wisp of shared memory. 

_You would have told me that you loved me, that you’d go on loving me, even after I was gone._

One side of Brian’s mouth lifted in a tired smile. He held Justin’s gaze locked with a tender resigned look of his own and breathed in deeply, trying in vain to find the strength to make the declaration, he knew wouldn’t, shouldn’t change anything anyways. 

“I do, you know, I still lo…,” he’d barely started when Justin interrupted him. 

“I _know_ Brian. Don’t you think I realize that? I bet, if I look in my old drawer, I’ll find those rings you couldn’t bring yourself to return, won’t I? And yet, even if we’ve probably talked more on the phone together in the past months than we _ever_ did face to face, you’ve never told me how much you missed me and you’ve never _once_ visited me!”  

Justin threw his arm into the air in frustration and glared at Brian’s frozen, stoic look before continuing: “And you know what the worst part is…..?” he shouted. 

Brian shook his head evasively, trying to swallow past the lump forming in his throat at the sight of the moisture rising in angry red-rimmed eyes turning aqua blue. 

“The worst part is, I’ve had no choice but to let you get away with this, because you’ve been right all along, even if you were right for all the _wrong_ reasons. “ 

 

Justin picked up his bag and jacket, where they lay tossed aside a few feet inside the sliding door.

“Maybe I was just too young and too immature to see what you were giving me as opposed to what I thought, I wanted.” He shrugged into the jacket and placed the strap of his bag across his shoulders.

“That’s why you finally proposed isn’t it?” he continued as Brian pointedly gathered the last of his own things.

“You even told me, you’d do anything to make me happy. I’m sorry I didn’t realize that finally giving me the whole fairytale was simply your way of making me realize, I didn’t need it and shouldn’t want it. It was your way of setting me free.” 

Brian shook his head slowly “Justin….”

 

“And after being willing to do that for me…” A sob escaped Justin’s throat. 

“Damn you Brian, after that kind of gesture how can I do anything but try to live up to what you’ve wanted for me?” 

The anger finally surfaced and exploded like a molten burst of lava in Brian’s stomach at the words so uncomfortably close to what Alex had told him. 

“So you think, my proposal was just some grand sacrifice on my part and now you’ve left the poor untamed beast behind, trapped in his lonely existence, forever doomed to be a hostage to love,” he started dramatically with a cutting sarcastic edge, hating himself for the smarting sensation in his eyes.

“Fuck _you_ Sunshine. I don’t need your pity. I’ve always told you, I never wanted..” 

 

The buzzer interrupted his words, startling them both. 

“That’s my cab,” Brian said laconically, mouth set in an angry straight line. 

Justin reached out and grabbed his arm. “I know what you’ve always told me. That’s exactly my point. For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve lived your life first obsessed by trying to avoid all that you _didn’t_ want and then trying to give me and everyone else for that matter what _we_ want or expect from you. But what do _you_ want?” He looked up at Brian, eyes wide open and beseeching. 

Brian felt the anger evaporate as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving saddened weariness in its place. What did _he_ want? Since when the fuck did that matter? 

He stared at Justin, searching in his mind for the right words and biting his lip in frustration as they refused to materialize. 

“I want you to have New York,” he started firmly and then sighed deeply before continuing with hesitation. 

“It’s too fucking ironic for words that once I finally realized what Pittsburgh had to offer me, you left for the one place, I’ve always wanted to go to.” 

The sound coming from Justin was a cross between a laugh and a sob. Brian smiled sadly and rubbed the lone tear away from his cheek gently with the back of his hand. 

“Now…?” he shrugged.  

“I just don’t know Justin. I have built up Kinnetik from scratch. I can’t just walk away from that or from everything and everyone else here”

The words surprised him as they came out of his mouth. It hadn’t been a conscious choice. Maybe Justin was right, maybe he should figure out what the hell, he wanted. Maybe then he might even stop feeling this fucking tired all the time. 

 

The buzzer behind his back gave a short, final warning. 

They both sighed and Justin reached up and Brian felt the small, strong hands circle his face and pull him down to sensuously soft lips. 

“Stop making this so difficult,” he murmured in between nipping at Brian’s lower lip.  

“That’s always been my job. All I want is for you to meet me half-ways,” he continued and slowly pushed his tongue teasingly into the depths of Brian’s mouth before pulling back and letting him go. 

“So just fucking come visit me already,” he said over one shoulder before yanking the door open and disappearing into the hallway.


	12. December 30th 2005, Pittsburgh

The offices of Kinnetik were slowly coming back to life beneath the thick, grey, disintegrating blanket of holiday snowfall.

 

Brian leaned back in his chair and breathed in the atmosphere with a sense of renewed energy. The raw sexuality of bare, naked walls, the rhythm of printers and rapid footsteps mixed with the elegance of tasteful décor…well almost. A look of distaste crossed his face at the thought of the various Christmas decorations the staff had somehow snuck in underneath his watchful eye.

Even Ted had gotten into what had turned into the office’s favourite game. Sewing tinsel onto the collar of his favourite cashmere coat that one day when he was late and had almost walked into a meeting without noticing had showed ingenuity, he frankly hadn’t even been aware good old Theodore was capable of.

 

That, and…Brian relished the feel and sound of his teeth gnashing. Anything to block out the infernal, brainwashing, mind-numbing sound of… 

_…Jingle bells, Jingle bells, jingle all the way…_

The feminine humming sound preceded the sight of Cynthia’s long-legged stride into his office.

She smoothed back a carefully highlighted wave of blond hair and gave him a smug little grin with pursed lips in return for the dirty glare shot in her direction. 

“I’ve gotten you the files, you wanted and I’ll have the portfolio on prospective New York business partners ready by tomorrow,” She sent him another conspiratorial grin and arranged a few manila folders on his desk.

 

He’d run a few ideas about the future of Kinnetik by her and Ted and their enthusiasm had taken him a little by surprise. _He_ knew they already ran much of the office on an everyday basis and were probably perfectly capable of doing so in his potentially extended absence. The fact that _they_ had apparently also finally figured it out had been slightly disturbing. On the other hand, as Cynthia cheekily remarked, this way the presence of the lord and master himself could be doled out sparingly at major presentations for all the more effect.

 

Having arranged the portfolios to her content, Cynthia went around his desk and smiled sweetly while she laid out papers for signature. 

“Oh, and your sister is here to see you,” she said with a studiously innocent expression to the sound of his exasperated sigh. 

“You want me to get rid of her?” she asked with a small sideways glance and reached across in order to reach signed papers, her blouse a whisper of pale silk across his right arm.

Brian breathed in deeply as he contemplated the offer.

So that’s where the damned, elusive scent of cinnamon and apples was coming from. He’d found himself wondering about that lately. 

“No, send her in,” he said in a resigned tone of voice. Cynthia nodded her compliance and walked out briskly and professionally.

 

Brian rearranged the folders and glanced quickly at the screen of his laptop while contemplating the inevitable recriminations, guilt-trip and finally financial demands. With any luck and considering the number of messages, he’d ignored in the past couple of months, Claire would hopefully be angry enough to come up with the number, he glanced at his watch, before noon.

 

As he heard the quick tap of Cynthia’s heels and the duller squeak of rubber soles approaching, his eyes fell on the image of a gap-toothed, laughing Gus, caught mid-air by his own, partly obscured arms on one of their excursions to the park during Thanksgiving break. Michael had taken the picture and conspired with the Toronto branch so that Gus could proudly present him with it for Christmas.

Brian fingered the frame thoughtfully for a second but decided not to turn to place it face down after all.

Letting his father know about Gus’ parentage had been an impulse and once it had become obvious, that Jack had taken that little snippet of information to the grave with him rather than face the hassle of sharing it, Brian had been content to let it rest without any of them ever knowing of Gus’ existence. Especially considering how fond his mother was of the part in the bible about where the sins of the fathers went.

 

“Brian…”

He looked up at the voice of his sister, sounding belligerent and worn, taking in the sight of her, looking equally dishevelled in a saggy cotton blouse beneath last year’s winter coat and scuffed old sneakers. 

He raised his eyebrows and looked at her with an expectant, serviceable half-smile. 

“Sorry to disturb you at work,” she said, tightening her lips and glaring at him, “but you haven’t answered any of my messages. 

“For Christ’s sake Brian, it’s Christmas, you couldn’t show up once? Just _once…_ to take her to church? “ 

Ah, here we go, recriminations liberally laced with guilt, he thought.

He looked at her coolly,”I’ve been out of the country.” 

Stuffed turkey in a stuffed house on a side street in Toronto had been such a success, in the Muncher’s mind anyways, so Debbie had reluctantly been persuaded to fill up Carl’s old station wagon and take her fabled and frankly scary Christmas show on the road.

 

“All I ask is that you take her off my hands once in a while Brian, I’ve got enough to deal with having two kids and you have no one depending on you except her. She’s your mother too!” She said and placed her hands on her hips determinedly. 

“She’s not my parent by any definition, Claire,” he tried to make his voice sound calm and reasonable. 

“Maybe she hasn’t always known how to show it, but she stayed home looking after us all those years, despite how hard things were.” 

“That doesn’t make her a mother. It might make her a saint except don’t fool yourself that she did it for us,” Brian said sarcastically, wishing that they’d move on to the financial demands, before he actually lost his temper.

 

“That’s low Brian, even for you,” her lower lip quivered angrily. 

“Well, our family doesn’t exactly have a tradition for standing around exchanging compliments, do we?” he replied dryly and shifted impatiently in the chair.  

“You don’t know the meaning of the word family, first chance you had, you got out! 

“I’m the one stuck back there trying to take care of her and look after the kids at the same time. How is that fair Brian, why did you get to be the one to leave everything behind and just sit here in your fancy office with nothing to worry about?”

 

He got out? Brian reached out and lifted a smooth heavy and slightly phallic sculpture functioning as paperweight from the far corner of his desk. It fit into the palm of his hand and he shifted the weight carefully in his hand, visualizing the arch towards the glass walls and the satisfying shattering sound of glass cracking. The heady thrill of anger surged through him in old, familiar and…hell yes, _inherited_ patterns. 

“You think I got out Claire?” he asked calmly and carefully settled the sculpture back onto the desk before getting up to walk around the desk. 

He leaned back against the desk directly in front of her, straightening the trouser legs of his dark Armani suit and then looking back up, facing her. 

“You think I have it all made because I get to fly first class and I can fuck pretty much anyone I choose?”

He laughed shortly. There had been a time when he would have agreed with her and he certainly wasn’t about to give up his hard earned riches just to prove a point, still…

 

He picked up the frame on the desk and fingered it absently, the image of his smiling son still turned away from Claire’s uncertain expression.

Brian looked at it for a moment and then looked back at his sister who was still waiting for him to finish his sentence.

“And yet…,” he started, “all it takes is some insane little jock with a grudge and a baseball bat or one of the ugly debilitating diseases out there or hell even…,” by then he was shouting in her face, “… a half-assed paedophile charge from my darling little nephew and I’m right back where I started, in the fucking gutter with my loving family.” 

Claire fidgeted with the worn handle of her purse, “Brian, I’m sorry about that business, but you hear these things all the time, how was I supposed to know my own son was lying..?” her voice tapered off at the end of the sentence.

 

“I’m not going to pay for a cleaning lady, rehab or any other brilliant ideas you might have concerning Saint Joan this time,” Brian said decisively,“if she wants something from me, first she’ll have to admit to having a drinking problem and she’s going to have to do it to my face. Seeing as how, she’d rather die a slow, painful death than be humiliated in front of the fag, that won’t happen.” 

He watched his sister’s shoulders slump in defeat and sighed as her eyes filled up with tears. Oh for fuck’s sake, maybe he should have just given her the cheque like he always did.

“Sometimes, I wish I could be as cold as you, but it’s different when you have kids, she’s their grandmother too, I can’t just…” Claire said with a sniffle and rummaged through the purse for tissues. 

Brian looked at her more closely, trying and failing to detect even a glimpse of the person she’d been before they’d grown up old enough to be rivals for what little attention had been doled out back then. Judging from her slightly dishevelled appearance and the black circles beneath her eyes, she was close to running on empty.

 

_That’s bullshit…_ he could almost hear Alex’ voice tenderly discarding the lessons of worthlessness his parents had worked so hard to instil.

He hadn’t even realized the extent to which they’d succeeded until Alex’ death had sent Justin back to figuratively fetch him. 

Justin’s visit had left him with the usual feeling of loss, he’d sworn to never have to endure again every single fucking time he’d seen his partner or lover or whatever the fuck, he was supposed to call him, leave.

Only this time, it was different, because this time, between them, Alex and Justin had stripped him of the last of the defence mechanisms he’d been so blissfully and arrogantly unaware of even deploying in order to keep his life free from the expectations that only led to the kind of disappointments, he’d endured enough of during childhood to last him a lifetime.

 

His fingers tightened around the object in his hand until the cheap frame threatened to give out. Impulsively, he stretched out the picture, waiting until she took it from his hand with a confused frown.

He waited patiently until her eyes widened with shock. Maybe the smile wasn’t familiar, but the gangly legs, unruly mop of brown hair and the hazel eyes were to his recollection, pretty much a complete match to those found in the album only used to drag out in front of any new acquaintances Joan might have made from Saturday lunches at the church. 

“But how, I mean where….how come you never told us…,” she stammered. 

Brian shrugged and lifted an eyebrow. “What for?” he finally asked, tone of voice less abrasive than the words themselves. 

She acknowledged his reply with a small shrug of her own, her posture both apologetic and slightly ironic. 

“I’d like to meet him… sometime,” she finally said quietly. 

He looked up, startled at the wistful tone of voice rather than the request.

“I’m not sure, I want him to,” he replied honestly but with equal softness. 

“Fair enough, I guess,” she said and put the picture gently down on his desk, all fight seemingly gone out of her in what appeared to be a rare moment of introspection. He could certainly commiserate with that feeling, having had enough of _that_ shit to last him a lifetime and he obviously wasn’t done or else he wouldn’t still be sitting here, he suddenly realized.

 

The cheque book lay hidden underneath the folders. He flipped it open and quickly scrawled on the top page before tearing it off and offering it to her, as she started to turn to leave. 

Claire shook her head and glanced regretfully at the scrap of paper. 

“It’s not for her,” he specified calmly and waved it at his sister again, watching to see if she’d catch the implication that this was a peace offering as well as an opportunity. They looked at each other for a brief moment before she relented and carefully folded the paper before sticking it in her purse. 

“Thank you,” she said and bit her lip before adding as a final gesture,” he looks just like you.”

 

He watched her leave in silence and then smoothed a thumb down the frame of the picture while the other hand hesitated above the intercom before pushing the button. 

“Cynthia, get me Jennifer Taylor on the phone would you?”

 

A few moments later a soft, professional voice on the other end of the line reached him. 

“Jennifer…,” he replied as a way of greeting, “I wanted to get back to you about the building next to Kinnetik.” 

“Brian…“ Jennifer said surprised, “Merry Christmas. How was everyone in Canada?” 

He toyed with the pen in front of him and smiled a little, indulgently. “Great, everyone is great.” 

“And you?” he added innocently. He hadn’t heard anything from Justin in more than a week apart from a short message on his answering service, damn Ted for introducing that pager and making him get used to switching of his phone anyways. Of course he could have just called Justin back, but he hadn’t. Not yet. 

“New York is amazing at Christmas. It was a real treat for Molly and me. I don’t know if Justin told you, but Mrs. Klein, his landlady, was kind enough to let us stay there since she is visiting her family for a few weeks.” 

“I try not to dwell on the fact that he’s sharing an apartment with one of Mel’s kooky aunts these days. I don’t even want to know why an elderly Jewish woman is living in Chelsea and much less why she’d want him around. As his mother, shouldn’t you be shielding him from bad influences?” he asked tongue-in-cheek. 

Jennifer snorted unladylike and told him pleasantly. “My son is a grown man, something you should be in a position to appreciate since you’re the one who led him away from home and fucked him at age seventeen.” 

Brian winced a little. Amazing how that one never grew old with Jennifer.

 

“So are you going to ask me how he is?” There was a wealth of feminine knowledge in the teasing tone of voice. 

“Good, I assume,” he could feel the wince grow into a full-blown frown, “or else I’m sure someone would have taken the profound pleasure of informing me.” 

“He’s better than good actually.” Jennifer said. 

“His paintings are starting to sell and he’s working free-lance as an illustrator. I’m so fucking proud of him,” she added fervently. 

Brian acknowledged Debbie’s influence with a silent smile. Jennifer had come a long way from the suburbs even if she’d always been this fiercely proud of her son.  

“He’s very talented. He deserves it.”

 

“He deserves even more, but maybe that’s just his mother speaking.” Her tone of voice became a little sharper before turning professional, “You wanted to talk to me about the building, I haven’t managed to persuade the owner to part with it yet, but he knows of my interest and as you’ve probably heard, his creditors are closing in, so I think I might have something for you in the course of the next few months.” 

Brian winced again and hesitated, trying to formulate his intentions. 

“I’ve changed my mind about the building,” he started. “I’ve decided not to expand Kinnetik’s office here in Pittsburgh after all.” 

“No? According to Ted your art department is all but reduced so sitting in each others laps with all your new clients coming in,” she asked. 

“Yeah, well, as much as they love to gripe about it, so far they’re living proof that a sexually charged environment isn’t a bad thing, least of all for productivity. We do need to expand but I’ve been thinking of maybe opening another office instead,” he replied, the lifting of his voice at the end making it almost a question. 

“Really?” She said carefully. “Where did you have in mind?” 

“The fact that you have to ask makes me think, it might not be a good idea,” he told her, amused resignation creeping into his voice. That was the worst part about figuring out this long-distance non-relationship. He knew Justin loved him but without being able to look at his reactions and seeing the intentions in his body language and touch and instead being reduced to trying to predict the outcome by second-hand accounts, he was starting to feel a little uncomfortable.

 

Not that it really mattered, he told himself. The plans for Kinnetik were based soundly on business sense as they had to be. Any lingering doubts he’d had on that score had been dispelled by Ted’s calculations and the gleam in Cynthia’s eyes. He wasn’t doing that for Justin, he was doing it for himself and for Kinnetik. That was pretty much the only thing about the whole deal, he was certain of. 

“You’re thinking about New York?” Jennifer asked after a being quiet for a moment. 

“You think it might work, that it might not be too late?” he countered seemingly nonchalant and bit his lip while a few fingers tapped a drum solo on the edge of his electronic calendar, hoping she’d know he wasn’t strictly talking about the business anymore. 

“You’re asking me?” she said, the maternal softness blending with surprise in her voice. 

“I’m asking you,” he confirmed, trying to sound confident and feeling ridiculous. 

“You know, Brian,” she said deliberately lightly, “When I first met you, I wanted to hate you for disrupting my comfortable, _normal_ little life. I guess I didn’t realize at the time that with you to look after him, he would have the opportunity to become anything he wanted. 

“As for _normal_ , in this age of unsafe sex and teenage pregnancies, at least _this_ parent didn’t have to worry about my kid coming home, knocked-up and without a future,” she added wryly. 

Brian smirked sadly. “That’s a matter of opinion.” 

“No, it isn’t,” she replied and added firmly, “I might not have appreciated it at the time but you saved his life and since then you’ve let him live it.” 

Brian fidgeted silently, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. On the other hand, he thought, what the hell were you expecting Kinney. 

“So,” Jennifer continued stubbornly, her voice breaking a little at the end, “if this is your convoluted way of asking for my blessing, you have it.”

 

“To tell you the truth, I don’t know what the fuck, I’m asking.” Brian blurted out. 

The laughter on the other end had a teasing, soothing quality to it. “There is only one way to find out,” she said, “Just…” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Brian rolled his eyes if for no other reason than his sorely tested dignity, “Just fucking go visit him already.” 

“I was going to say…,” her tone was a feminine version of classic Taylor smugness, “just don’t ask me to put your loft on the market….again….for the third time.”


	13. 30th December 2005, New York City

The door, like the hallway itself, had a worn, nondescript look about it. Brian leaned against the wall next to it, gathering his thoughts before actually knocking. The guy from downstairs should have known better than to let Brian enter behind him, label clothes or not but all in all it looked a fairly decent neighbourhood.

He squinted against the pale fluorescent light from the ceiling and sighed, silently contemplating the scary concept of a young gay artist and an eccentric old lady, grown too afraid to live on her own. On the good side, unlike Daphne’s friend’s couch this seemed a permanent solution and certainly unlike that excuse for a studio in Pittsburgh, spending time here probably didn’t constitute a health hazard. Providing he’d be welcome. Like Jennifer had said, one way to find out, and finding out that Justin was alone in the apartment for another few days while Mrs. Klein was still Christmas visiting had snapped his resolve to wait, so 6 miserable hours on winter roads worth of second guessing his impulsive visit later, Brian reluctantly lifted his hand.

The knock sounded muted against the massiveness of the sturdy front door. He clenched the fist and knocked again, harder. The potential irony of waiting months to gather up the courage to do this and then arrive to find Justin not home was not lost on him. He rubbed at gritty eyes with fingers almost numb from the cold of finding his way from the parking lot blocks away and shook his head. Of all the stupid ways to approach this, he’d promised himself to have a plan and not just rush into things…

The door swung open, interrupting his thoughts.   
“Brian!” Justin stood in the doorway illuminated by the soft light coming from antique lamps making the tussled blond hair gleam and casting soft shadows across the folds of what looked suspiciously like Brian’s old sweatpants combined with a woollen sweater.  
Justin’s smile widened after the initial surprise.

“Brian,” he called again in a gentler and more breathless voice before stepping forward and kissing him quick and hard on the lips.   
“Hey Sunshine,” Brian tried to hide his lower lip between his teeth and fervently hoped his smile didn’t look as tremulous as it felt.   
They looked at each other awkwardly and Justin gestured for Brian to follow him through the hallway towards the room on the far left with a door left ajar.

The room seemed almost out of proportion with large windows dominating what was little more than a decent sized bedroom. The effect was enhanced by the furniture lined up along the walls in order to create more space. A single bed, slightly rumpled and strewn with large pillows occupied the length of one wall and to the other side an old scarred desk sagged underneath the clutter of discarded clothes, sketch books and the assorted kind of knick-knacks Justin had a pendant for collecting for no other reason than a pleasing shape or an interesting angle to reflect light.

By the windows a large covered easel reflected itself in the mirrors of a closet, revealing the source of the familiar scents of paint and turpentine mixed with something indefinable and sweeter like the elusive apple cinnamon scent of Kinnetik recently.

“My humble abode,” Justin indicated with a sweeping motion. “Sorry, there’s not much room.”  
Brian caught him glancing sideways at the narrow bed and biting his lip. How ironic that he’d defiantly invited Brian into that hovel in Pittsburgh as if it was a penthouse suite and now he looked like he was expecting Brian to flee for the nearest hotel.

“It’s a helluva lot better than what I had at your age,” Brian said laconically.   
“Then again I didn’t have your natural talent. Some of us had to work our way up,” he continued ironically, eyes twinkling and searching for some spark of connection before things turned too awkward without the numbing effects of alcohol and what he’d lately come to acknowledge as having been genuine grief the last time they’d met.

Justin remained in the centre of the room, looking like he was still barely suppressing the urge to fidget but at least a tentative smile was forming. His face slowly lit up in a wide disbelieving grin and eyes sparkled as he slowly approached, pressing his hands against Brian’s shoulders.  
“I can’t believe, you’re finally here,” he crowed and looked up. 

Brian felt the long suppressed need shoot through his body with all the force of a powerful electrical current and reflect itself in Justin’s eyes as they met his. Suddenly, the cold and tired half formed ideas of approach from the trip seemed to seep from his bones and all he wanted was to mindlessly reach out and put his trust in the physical attraction that had always simmered and flared between them.

His hands searched between them and yanked a reluctant zipper down to reveal, warm naked skin beneath the sweater. Bless Justin for his habit of liking the softness directly against his skin, Brian thought and slipped searching fingers inside the sweater and across the solid warmth of his chest.   
“They’re cold!” Justin exclaimed, obviously pleased but still looking a little hesitant and despite his age and maturity still so goddamn young in Brian’s mind. He quickly suppressed the feeling of déjà vu and held on, firmly, hands now behind Justin’s back, slowly rubbing to create pleasure and receive warmth.

“They’ll heat up in a minute,” he told Justin calmly, the constricted feel in his chest sending shivers of relief washing through his whole nervous system at the realization that he’d been right. It had only been time after all and coming had been the right decision.

Greyish blue eyes searched his and seemed to connect with the message reflected there.  
Suddenly Justin pushed back a little, a challenge forming on his face.   
“Why are you here?” he said suddenly, trying to suppress the excited smile.   
“Because…,” Brian shrugged mischievously and hid his smile against Justin’s lips as he reached out and gave him a hungry, lingering kiss.   
“Say it..!” Justin shoved at his shoulder in a demanding gesture, eyes twinkling as the feeling of déjà vu returned with renewed strength.   
“Because… I want to be,” Brian said earnestly, voice breaking involuntarily over the first word. Justin blinked and swallowed before slowly pushing Brian backwards until the back of his knees hit the bed and he let his weight settle down on the soft mess of pillows and duvet.   
Justin slowly and deliberately pulled down the tattered sweat pants and opened the remaining few inches of zipper on the sweater all the way down.

Brian felt as if every single drop of blood trickled from his brain and pooled lower as Justin approached and straddled his legs, carefully settling himself and bracing against Brian’s shoulders.   
“We have to talk, but that can wait,” he breathed against Brian’s neck and used a hand to arch it back for further inspection. Brian murmured a swallowed yes and leaned further back, revelling in the sensation of soft lips nibbling at the roughened skin of his unshaven neck and cheeks and a tongue lapping gently at the pulse point of his throat.

His own hands took action by pure instinct, frantically pulling at shirt buttons, shrugging out of fabric and reaching around Justin’s legs to get his own pants out of the way.  
They both groaned gratefully as Justin’s weight carefully settled against Brian and he started to slowly rock back and forth, creating friction. Brian paused, pants still within reach and fumbled for the lube and condoms he had optimistically stashed there before getting out of the car.

Having readied them both he buried his face against Justin’s neck and panted as he felt the tight warmth of the others body envelop him excruciatingly slowly, inch by inch.  
He let him slide back and forth a few times more, feeling the play of muscles from the thighs straddling him until they’d found a rhythm before releasing his grip and cradling Justin’s face in his hands tenderly, stilling the movement.  
Brian kissed him almost reverently and whispered, “We’re already talking, can’t you tell?” 

“Oh God, I’ve missed you so much,” Justin replied shakily and kissed him back fervently while resuming his motions. “This feels so good,” he continued.   
Brian hugged him tighter and slid his hands beneath the firm ass hovering right above his legs, crushing him closer, trying unconsciously to fill up the space belonging only to him. Only it wasn’t enough, he couldn’t get close enough. Justin strained against him, also trying to increase the pressure and the pace.

Lifting him up a little and ignoring the disappointed moan the movement elicited, Brian expertly flexed the muscles in his arm and flipped Justin sideways on the bed, following him down without ever relinquishing his hold. He groaned in satisfaction after thrusting hard and angled the others pelvis for even deeper penetration, practically lifting his lower body off the bed.

Justin arched and moaned, trying to get his legs wrapped around Brian’s waist for better leverage while Brian bent down to kiss him, nearly bending him in half and forcing a groan out of him.  
He continued to thrust in an increasingly fast pace until he felt the toes resting against his own calf starting to curl. Brian smiled unconsciously triumphant and slowed his pace until he was barely stroking Justin with the tip of his cock.

Justin moaned his protest, head thrashing against the pillow beneath him and the pale beautiful skin of his throat arching up. Brian caught his breath and smiled as the vision suddenly blurred before him. Of all the beautiful sights in the world…The small hands, alternative petting his shoulders and pulling frantically at his arms finally penetrated the haze he’d drifted into. The low expletive uttered made him laugh outright and reach down, forcibly pulling Justin up against him while his own hand reached between them.   
He felt his own world turn a hot throbbing shade of black as he felt the warm spray across his chest.

He collapsed on top of the sweat slicked body beneath him, mentally ignoring the fleeting thought that he aught to move aside to avoid crushing the breath out of Justin who was now smoothing trembling circles across his lower back.  
The exhaustion brought on by a long road trip and the after effects of an insomnia he hadn’t quite mastered yet sank its claws into him and he let his eyes drift shut even as he felt fingers reach between them and release rapidly softening flesh.

A sharp jab to the side finally penetrated darkness and his eyes opened reluctantly to the sight of a slightly lifted eyebrow.   
“Think you could spare me a bit of air,” Justin breathed with difficulty.  
Brian chuckled wearily and blew a breath into Justin’s mouth as he leaned his head down for a kiss. They shifted positions awkwardly on the narrow bed until they lay facing each other, legs still hopelessly tangled.

“So,” Justin began,” here we finally are in New York together.”   
He paused and looked at Brian before continuing in an accommodating voice. “Night is still young, anything you fancy doing? Going for a late meal somewhere, clubs, bars?”   
Brian lifted his eyebrows suggestively and nudged his hip closer, drawing a chuckle from Justin. “Besides that,” Justin replied with an eye roll.

Brian blinked, trying to gather his tired, scattered thoughts.  
“Why don’t we…stay here awhile and cuddle?” he asked saucily with a lazy rumble coming from the back of his throat.

Justin’s eyes widened immediately and he threw a light punch against Brian’s shoulder.  
“Don’t even start, you’ll just freak me out again,” he said.   
“On the other hand,” he continued, looking closer at Brian’s face, “maybe we should stay here and get some sleep. You look tired.”   
Catching the beginnings of an annoyed expression on Brian’s face, he quickly added for good measure, “you’re not getting any younger, you know.”

Brian’s expression turned wry as he sighed and mumbled, “Complaints, nothing but complaints these days.”

A nail scored lightly down across his nipple in a fleeting caress and made him shudder involuntarily before Justin replied. “If it’s any consolation, it’s a testament to your superior skill that in all the hot guys in New York, I haven’t sex that even remotely compares to this in all the time I’ve been here.”

Brian tried to formulate words about the aptitude of flattery but found his exhausted brain unable to process the thought. He settled for leaning forward and rubbing his nose and chin against the sensitive spot, he remembered across Justin’s collarbone.

Justin hugged him close for a moment before wriggling down along his body and pushing him flat onto his back. “So,” he said and pressed the beginning of a series of kisses against Brian’s abdomen, “I’m a little rusty on the finer point of…am I allowed to call it a relationship these days..?” he lifted his head and smiled innocently.

Brian raked fingers through the damp strands of Justin’s hair and tugged gently rather than to punish.

“You see, I was wondering if maybe this could be interpreted as cuddling,” Justin continued and slowly licked a path further down, making Brian arch lazily into his caress.


	14. December 31 2005: New York City

The volume of the city slowly rose in tune with the increasing light sifting through the blinds at the large windows. The slam of a door opened Brian’s eyelids momentarily. A lullaby of the pleasantly warm cotton worn to perfect softness and the mix of Justin’s inherently clean scent mingled with a faint and not unpleasant tang from their sex caused them to slowly slide shut again. 

Another door closed with an audible groan and he stretched lazily, one arm idly searching out the boundaries of a too narrow bed and finding it empty. Not that lack of space didn’t have its perks, he thought idly and felt a pleasant rush of blood at a half dreamed memory of firm flesh pressing back against his groin during the night.   
The smell of coffee and rustle of a paper preceded Justin into the room. Brian squinted sleepily and looked up to the unexpected view of a wide awake and cheerfully alert lover. In all the time he’d known him Justin didn’t leave the bed in the morning unless threatened with dire consequences. For some reason he found the change a little disconcerting.   
“What the fuck are you doing up so early?” he grumbled and struggled with the duvet to reach a sitting position. 

A paper bag promptly hit his chest and threatened to spill out flaky, newly baked confections, causing a smile to escape his lips.   
“Why, I’m serving you breakfast in bed honey” Justin purred in an unnaturally high pitched voice and immediately followed it with a low warning growl when Brian picked up the bag and dangled it over the edge of the bed, opening his mouth to complain about crumbs in bed.  
“Oh no, you don’t. My bed, my choice,” he glared at Brian and plopped down on the bed with crossed legs.   
“You want some of this?” he waved the double Latte in front of Brian, letting the aroma waft through the air. Brian huffed but let it slide at the first satisfying taste of milky caffeine. 

“You didn’t have to do this, strawberries must have cost a fortune this time of year,” he chastised Justin with a slight frown after surveying the array of croissants and fresh fruit being arranged on the bed between their legs.   
“I can afford to do it this once and since when do you concern yourself with the price of produce?”   
Justin replied and licked a stray flake of chocolate of his lips. 

“Just because I personally don’t have to worry about the cost of most things anymore doesn’t mean I can’t remember what it was like to do so,” Brian replied and shook his head at the offered croissant, “No, thanks.”   
Justin stubbornly kept the bread hovering in the air. “Tell that to my ass…” he said with a glare “considering the chafed skin your skinny hip bones probably left there last night.”   
The croissant did taste great Brian admitted to himself as his stomach growled with satisfaction around the first bite.

“Stop fussing over what I can or can’t afford, you have enough to worry about as it is” Justin said calmly after a few minutes uninterrupted eating.   
“Me? Worry?” Brian decided to attempt the glib approach.   
“Remember that doctor’s appointment back in September you didn’t want to tell me about? If you put the headaches and the tiredness you’ve complained about over the phone to me together with the fact that you run two businesses and have dealt with sickness and even death in your personal life lately, you don’t have to be a genius to put it together,” Justin in a persistent and yet tender voice as his fingers brushed themselves off from remaining crumbs.   
“I remember the talk about the doctor’s appointment. I also distinctly remember promising to tell you if there was something wrong,” Brian replied and bit into a slice of melon for good measure.   
“I know you did. But I also know that you’re the perfect candidate for underestimating the seriousness of stress. Brian, it can cause a number of grave side effects because it potentially damages your cardiovascular system and suppresses your body’s immune defence,” Justin said and regarded Brian across the rim of his coffee cup.   
Brian shook his head almost imperceptively. “I thought the idea was for both of us to live our lives without having to feel responsible for each other’s well-being. I’m fine Justin, I’m dealing with it.”   
“I know you are,” Justin nodded slowly as if to convince himself.  
“After all…” he started, then looked up smiling determinedly, a glimpse of mischief hidden somewhere behind the grey and blue tones competing for dominance in his eyes.   
Brian found himself returning the smile foolishly. “What?” he taunted.   
“Well you’re here aren’t you” Justin smirked and quickly gathered the remnants of the breakfast.

He set them on the floor and then reached out to grasp Brian’s hands before pushing him backwards, onto the bed without letting them go.   
Justin slowly raised them above their heads and leaned down and draped himself across Brian’s chest,   
“So I’ll have to make sure you’ll find it a soothing experience that will make you like New York,” he whispered against the naked shoulder, nuzzling against the sensitive skin right above the collarbone. 

Brian suppressed a shiver at the warm, wet tongue and gentle graze of teeth and felt grateful for the turn of the conversation.   
“You little twat. I don’t need you to like New York,” he said more gruffly than he’d intended and tried to make up for it by sliding his hands down the sides of his lover, settled on the edge of the jeans and reached inside the soft, worn edge to cup the warm flesh underneath.

He could feel the answering moan against his chest as Justin squirmed further down out of reach from his hands and began his own assault, kneading warm muscle and kissing his way down to the hard, already puckered nipples.   
Brian groaned and arched his hips involuntarily, trying to increase the contact but the small firm hands settled on hipbones and held him down.  
“Shhh, not yet” Justin murmured and all Brian could do was stare at the lush and already slightly swollen lips.

Justin’s hands resumed their firm yet gentle movements up and down Brian’s body in long languid strokes. Brian’s eyes slowly drifted shut as he gave in to the inevitable. Justin had a point about him coming here. He hadn’t felt this relaxed in how long?   
He quickly banished the pointless thought as the kisses continued to rain down his abdomen and onto his hips and he had to concentrate not to strain against the hands still holding him down while stroking the sensitive skin inside his legs. 

The game was intimately predictable and he didn’t even have to open his eyes to see the teasing expression on his young lover’s face. Right on cue the quick tongue teased a moist trail down his aching cock and Brian moaned involuntarily. He stayed still though, all part of the game, until Justin’s hand predictably reached up and pulled at his shoulder, urging him to turn around. 

Brian opened his eyes, just as Justin leaned in and kissed him softly, asking permission and giving back the illusion of control, even though it was all decided from the moment he followed Brian down onto the bed.   
Brian held him still, taking a moment to return the kiss fervently, before acquiescing and turning around, settling back onto the bed with his arms down the sides and face turned towards the wall.

His eyes slid shut and breath pushed its way through his throat in a satisfied sigh as Justin’s hands settled on his shoulders and started gently kneading the muscles surrounding the shoulder blades.   
One of the hands massaging him left and Brian shifted impatiently until he heard the sound of a zipper and a moment later felt Justin’s naked weight settle across his thighs, straddling him for better access.

The hand joined the other, stroking and applying pressure in a seemingly endless effort to relax and soothe. That was the thing about Justin. Even as a teenager he’d had this persistence which could transform itself to patience whenever he wanted something badly enough. If not for the insistent erection pressing itself against his ass every time Justin leaned forward, this could have been nothing more than a languid soothing massage. 

Thumbs combined to apply pressure along the back of his neck and Brian felt the remaining fingers flutter gently along the side of his neck in a caress. He almost smiled into the pillow at the sensation. Justin had always been wise enough never to put it into words but basically there wasn’t much Brian wouldn’t have consented to in return for this, if he had to be honest about it. But fuck honesty when this was so much more fun, he thought and deliberately slowed his breath, exhaling deeply and letting his body relax even further into the mattress. 

Justin let him fake sleeping for a few more minutes before Brian heard the telltale crackle of a plastic tube. It took effort not to react to the slicked cool fingers sliding down to his crack while a knee nudged his legs a little apart.  
“Give it up, I know you’re not sleeping.” The breath was hot and sweet and tickling against his ear.  
“Then why aren’t you fucking me yet? Brian retorted, the last syllable ending in a gasp as he felt two fingers enter him promptly.   
Brian waited for the slight burning sensation to fade before arching his hips slightly, prompting a deeper caress. He almost moaned, eyes still closed, as he heard another faint crackling sound as the condom wrapper gave way to teeth ripping at it. Finally Justin’s other hand returned, grasping his hip in a needy grip.   
They both groaned in unison as Brian felt the warm, hard length replace the fingers. He pushed back, revelling in the tight, stretching ache. Justin kept completely still, perched above Brian’s back and resting his hands on either side. Brian opened his eyes and saw the tremble in the arms surrounding him and smiled wickedly, keeping himself locking tightly back against Justin but not moving either. 

Time stretched and thinned as he felt Justin breathe once and then twice, each breath sounding more like a plea.   
Finally, Brian reached back with one hand, urging him deeper and guiding each thrust as he began to push back against them.   
Justin fell across his back and Brian felt the face coming to rest between his shoulder blades, rubbing a roughened chin and softer lips against his skin for a moment before kisses trailed up and reached his neck.  
Brian turned his head obligingly and matched the kiss hungrily. He felt Justin smile against his mouth as the strokes slowed down despite the insistent grip he was keeping on Justin’s hip. 

The weight shifted almost imperceptively above him as Justin changed the angle, making him gasp with almost every thrust and arching up, allowing space for the hand reaching down underneath him to finally stroke his aching erection.   
He gritted his teeth and pushed back harder, arching his back and clenching deep muscles until Justin panted with the effort to hold back.  
“Brian, now please, I can’t….” The plea was accompanied with increased pressure and just the right speed in the hand fisting his cock.  
Brian groaned obligingly before surrendering and shuddering into the bed as he felt the answering warmth pulsating deep inside. 

They both remained motionless for a while. Brian felt the hitch in the breath above him and reached out, braiding fingers together and squeezing gently.  
Without letting go, Justin shifted and slid down one side, towards the wall on the narrow bed. He used the other hand to get rid of the latex and fit himself next to Brian, burrowing deep with the face against his throat, almost looking like a teenager again. Brian felt the often unacknowledged and yet so achingly familiar wave of tenderness wash all over him.   
“Amazing” he whispered and kissed the young man’s forehead, brushing at a wayward strand of hair and pulling him even closer.  
Justin made a pleased sound deep in his throat and pulled the duvet back up.  
“Yes” he finally sighed satisfied and snuggled closer, eyes closed, already half asleep again despite the morning light gathering strength and spreading though the room.


	15. December 31 2005, New York City

Cigarette smoke curled towards the ceiling in slow lazy tendrils as Brian contemplated the view through the old fashioned windows. The city even in the rush of lunchtime seemed as if yet impervious to the approaching countdown of hours, merely bustling by at its normal staccato pace.  
A bike messenger whipped past, angling in and out of traffic and presented Brian with a brief, tantalizing view of powerful spandex covered thighs. A slow smile spread across his face as he stretched pleasantly sore muscles and dragged another mouthful of soothing nicotine into his lungs.

“See anything interesting?” The words were accompanied by a kiss landing on his forearm and an arm insinuating itself beneath his in an embrace.   
Brian made a non-committal sound and leaned sideways to kiss the teasing expression from Justin’s face, trailing fingers down from blond stubble and down a bare chest to a ticklish spot right beneath the ribs.

“I’d rather take a look at that,” Brian indicated casually to the covered easel taking up most of the space in the light.   
He threw a sideways glance and frowned as he felt the squirming Justin tense and become still for a moment.   
“I...well, it’s not really done yet,” Justin evaded.

“Ok” Brian said in an indifferent voice, shrugging and attempting not to cast a second look at the covered canvas. Justin hadn’t generally wanted people to look over his shoulder but he’d never minded him before. Brian walked over to the cluttered desk and deposited the stub of the cigarette in half-filled ash tray.

The sound of fabric pulled across wood made him turn around. Justin stood holding the paint spattered sheet, looking at him nervously. Brian looked back, slightly wary and slowly walked towards the painting. By first glance it appeared fully done except for a few areas around the corners where the background hadn’t been completed. Unlike most of his works, this was not an abstract.

Shadows seemed to shift across the surface of the canvas in the sideways light from the windows as he approached it. The centre of the painting was dominated by a naked male form in half profile but somehow too close to the surface so that he could only be seen chest upwards, reaching out, as if he was trying to pull the viewer towards the unseen source of light in the background of the picture.  
Brian admired the luminous skin and the ripple of muscle half-hidden by the shade in the foreground. The body was intimately familiar as was the features partly obscured by blond locks of hair falling across a strong face and soft full lips.  
He frowned and crooked his head slightly to one side while looking closer. On the surface the subject was beautiful but there was something about Justin’s expression and the play of light in the painting that was slightly disturbing. He looked needy, demanding and the lack of light across his face made an almost sinister impact paired with the halo the light from behind made of his hair. Brian had to consciously stop himself from backing away a few steps.

Glancing sideways and noticing the smaller hands next to him pulling at each other nervously in expectation of his response, he started probingly “It is magnificent… but is that how you see yourself?”   
“No, I…,” Justin began hesitantly before seemingly gathering his courage, “I guess that’s how I picture you seeing me.”

“Or rather,” Justin continued, still wringing his hands before raising them and gesturing towards the painting, “How you define the concept of love in my mind. God if you only knew how close I came to hating you when you kept me at arm’s length in the beginning while I was here. It nearly destroyed me being without you until I finally realized that without that freedom, the freedom I never realized I’d been trying to take from you, I couldn’t have continued to grow or develop as a person or as an artist.” He looked at Brian with a desperately earnest expression.

“This…,” he gestured towards the painting, “this is my way of saying, I finally get it.”

Brian opened his mouth to reply and then closed it again, searching for the right words. “That’s not…Is that really why you haven’t pushed for any kind of a resolution between us all these months?” he suddenly asked and continued, “…because you saw yourself as trapping me?” He narrowed his eyes and tried not to let the simmering angry hurt show. Justin had implied as much back in November but he apparently hadn’t been willing to listen yet. Well he was listening now, not like he had much of a choice really and it fucking hurt.

“I don’t ever want to put you in a cage again Brian and don’t even try to deny that was what I was doing before we both came to our senses and I came here,” Justin said vehemently and looked straight up at him for the first time.   
“I was trying to make you happy,” Brian shrugged, still fighting every defensive instinct clamouring to lash out.   
“And you did! But I didn’t stay that way for long once I realized it came at your expense.   
“Yeah, I know” Brian sighed. “The fairytale is supposed to work both ways, not leave one of us trapped.”

At Justin’s confused expression he let out a small sound and closed his eyes momentarily, “Just something Alex said.”   
“You guys talked about me?” Justin asked, casually probing but looking towards the windows instead of meeting Brian’s eyes. 

Brian looked at him and realized that his expression was carrying subtle, well-hidden traces of jealousy. He smiled despite himself, the knowledge that Justin hadn’t been quite as accepting of the thought of Alex, even in a platonic sense, as he’d let on sent a heady rush of unexplainable pleasure through his system.   
“Yeah, we talked about you, about us,” he said gently, “I think he figured a few unsolicited rounds of therapy might make up for me putting up with his illness without smothering him in pity,” 

Justin’s eyes stole back and met his. Brian looked straight at him, willing him to see what he still found so difficult to articulate.   
“He was wrong, you know, I…I liked him Justin. He didn’t owe me anything. If anything I’m the one who should be grateful. If nothing else he gave you an excuse for coming back to see me.”

Brian sighed. The next part was even more difficult to say but it had to be done. “It was true what you said back then, about me being right for the wrong reasons. I can’t make you happy. Not even after finally realizing that there is nothing in the world I’d like more and there isn’t. Only you can do that. But if you still mean it about me meeting you half-ways, here I am and if I can find a way that includes Kinnetik, I’d be willing to stay eventually, if you still want me here. ” 

He watched Justin intently as blond lashes slid down hiding his eyes only to be countered by the hand searching out his bare shoulder and awkwardly rubbing diagonally down across the top of his chest. He sensed that Justin had his own piece to speak and bit the inside of his lips not to blurt out the need for an answer.

Eyes still closed, Justin took a deep breath before speaking, “I told you, I don’t need any rings or vows or any other sacrifices. Hell, Brian I don’t even need monogamy from you. But I can’t always be strong enough for the both of us. I need to know you love me and that you’re willing to stand by that commitment. I don’t want to live a life where I pause outside the door listening for sounds that you took someone into my home and into my bed just to spite me. Can you do that? Can we just take it from there?”

Eyes made impossibly blue with a faint sheen of moisture glanced up at him with choked emotion.  
Brian leaned forward and placed his forehead gently against Justin. “I think I can manage that…”  
He rubbed the back of Justin’s head lovingly, letting strands of hair run through his fingers.  
“So…,” he cleared his throat, “do I get a curfew this time too?” he couldn’t resist adding in an attempt to unsettle the lump in his own throat.

Justin’s muffled laugh broke the tension. ”Fuck you Brian, I’m not setting any more rules especially not since I’m always the one who ends up breaking them anyways.” 

His lips were soft and firm as they met Brian’s in a hungry kiss and his other hand crept up and around his neck, crushing himself closer and sealing the moment.

“Okay, now can we stop this introspective shit before I turn into a lesbian and move back to the part from last night when you were offering to show me the city?” Brian bickered relieved in between love bites and protested loudly when a jabbing finger unerringly found a tender spot beneath his ribs.

“And when we meet my friends tonight, how do I introduce you?” Justin asked, cocky insolence cleverly masking that tiny remnant of insecurity Brian sought and found in his eyes.

Brian nearly replied with a glib remark but caught himself in time. Being carefully serious, he looked straight into the other man’s eyes, willing him to see that he had never meant anything more, “Would it be too presumptuous of me to say…partner?”

The slow certain smile spread on Justin’s face, “That works for me. You’d never answer anyways if I called you my boyfriend,” he moved determinedly towards the easel and threw the old sheet haphazardly across the painting. “Now let’s get out of here, I’m starving.”


	16. Epilogue: June 25th 2006. New York City, during Pride Parade

The city seemed impervious to the shroud of warm wet humidity. Traffic snaked through intersections and hummed through city roads letting out the usual sounds of horns and tires squealing in protest.  
Pedestrians crossed the road quickly juggling newspapers and clutching groceries as they wove in between each other down along the pavements and streamed into the larger avenue. A couple of college boys sporting rainbow coloured tees and bare midriffs paused mid-step and giggled at the sight of a tall hazel-eyed man in faded designer jeans and a black sleeveless shirt both hugging the lean muscular body lovingly. The boy clutching his hand and using it for leverage to skip along the way went largely unnoticed by them.

Brian noted their scrutiny with disinterested indulgence as he slowly sauntered down the street, taking in the scents of hot tarmac, hotdogs and flowers and listening to the sounds of the city mingle with the faint squeak of new leather from Gus’s sandals.   
As they turned the corner onto 5th avenue Gus pointed down the street eagerly.  
“Listen daddy, I think I hear music. Is that the parade starting? Can we go see? But where are the others? I thought we were supposed to meet mommy,” he pulled impatiently at Brian.   
“Easy Gus, the parade will pass us here. And there is your mommy and your uncle,” Brian said, recognizing a blond sophisticated head among the crowd ahead. 

Lindsay waved and Gus threw himself trustingly from one parent and into the arms of the next, barely missing his mother’s linen halter top with a newly acquired ice cream cone. Brian met her teasing eyes and lifted eyebrow with a lazy contented grin.   
Responding to the confident and sometimes cheeky requests of a son so seemingly secure in his father’s affection was something he wasn’t going to apologize for. Besides it would take more than a couple of weeks in the city with his old man to actually spoil Gus.   
Michael stood to one side, the paternal smile at odds with the comic strip across his red and blue t-shirt. Brian greeted him with a nod. “Where’s the professor and the rest of the gang?” he asked. 

“We dropped Ben off, he had a last minute appointment with the publishers before the book launch tomorrow and the rest of them decided to settle in at the hotel and get ready for tonight. I thought you were meeting us there?” Michael asked.   
Brian shared a look with Lindsay. She shrugged and looked at him calmly. Fair enough, he thought. It was his tale to tell after all. Michael knew he’d made trips to New York lately but unlike Lindsay who had been told on account of Gus, Brian hadn’t specified his whereabouts or the reasons beyond business for going to anyone but her and obviously Ted who had been deeply involved in the business side of the New York adventure. 

It hadn’t been a conscious choice to keep a low profile over Justin at first but over the months the idea of presenting everyone with a fait accompli had grown from a whimsical idea hatched in the small hours of yet another stolen weekend to a full-fledged plan complete with bringing everyone to New York in the guise of an art opening and a book launch in the wake of the annual Pride Parade.   
The calm acceptance in Justin’s eyes had told Brian, that while it had been left largely unspoken, he knew the other reason Brian had been reluctant to discuss their renewed intimacy back home.

One thing was spending evenings in the relative anonymity of the younger NY art crowd with his arm slung across Justin’s shoulders indulgently as the established partner, not boyfriend-thank-you-very-much while he drank beer and listened to them discussing the relative merits of the post-expressionist period or the most inventive ways of ridding your kitchen from cockroaches with equal fervour.   
It was something else entirely to stride around Babylon and Liberty Avenue with all the layers of expectations and aspirations surrounding Brian fucking Kinney and play the reformed rake while Justin and he were still in the process of tentatively forming a new but hopefully even stronger intimacy and having to do so mainly by long distance while Kinnetik scoped out the possibilities in the big city.

One thing had however nagged Brian about the circumspection. He glanced at Michael’s questioning look. There was at least one person he really couldn’t justify the lack of information to with the excuse of it being nobody’s fucking business anyways. Especially not after keeping quiet about his true relationship with Alex, although truth be told, if anything, that seemed to have helped Michael see him differently at last. 

“I’m not staying at the hotel…,” Brian finally answered, deciding to ease into the subject.   
“I’m staying with Justin,” he continued bluntly, looking for the reaction. Lindsay quickly excused herself and moved a few feet away taking out a cell phone from her purse.   
“Yeah, we kind of figured you might,” Michael said, his smile genuine if a little awkward.   
So he had guessed. They hadn’t kept it a secret after all, merely hadn’t volunteered information, only… 

“Daddy, I can’t see the parade!” the small hand tugging at his arm, caught Brian’s attention, the potential indignity of suffering a perched position at the advanced age of 6 being outweighed by the sight and sounds of the approaching floats. Brian crouched and deftly swung the boy across his shoulders before standing up again.   
“But…,” Michael continued with a determinedly boyish grin, “even so we’re going out tonight right? Mom and Carl have agreed to take the kids after dinner and Justin’s opening. We don’t mind keeping you company while you scope out any new ideas for Babylon or whatever else you’ll be doing. It’ll be just like the old days.”   
“I’ve been meaning to tell you that,” Brian said and took a deep breath. “Babylon is sold, I’ll be signing the papers when we return,” he continued and moved sideways a few steps onto a slight ledge to allow Gus better sight of the floats drifting by to the sound of raucous music.   
“Really?!” Michael looked a little stunned as he followed him up. 

“It’s not official yet but I need the capital from Babylon to set up another office of Kinnetik here in New York and anyways, I wouldn’t have been able run both that and the Pittsburgh office of Kinnetik long distance,” Brian said and regarded Michael intently as almost a lifetime of shared history went unspoken between them in a look.   
Michael looked speechless. “Why didn’t you tell us?” he finally croaked. 

Brian glanced up at Gus, trying in vain to see the boy’s expression but failing. Hopefully the sights and the large sized scoop of vanilla in a cone were keeping him from listening in too closely to the adult conversation. Lindsay, who once past the initial disbelief in his steadiness had been supportive, was still discreetly keeping her distance, he noted.   
“Maybe I wanted to make sure, I could do it,” Brian admitted as a peace offering.

“I can’t believe you’re actually moving away from Pittsburgh. You always said you wanted to move to New York, but I guess I never really believed you would, not even when…” Michael said and shrugged helplessly.   
“It won’t be the same without you,” he offered with a subdued expression and a timid smile after a little pause. 

It wouldn’t be the same with me,” Brian replied, clearing his throat and reached out to cup the curve of his friend’s cheek in a brief caress.   
He then returned the slightly sad, nostalgic smile Michael sent him and held on firmer to the squirming legs of an oblivious Gus.   
Lindsay snapped her cell phone shut and approached tentatively, smiling as she looked from the one to the other. “Justin’s on his way,” she said with an innocuous look. “The gallery owner finally approved the set-up for tonight.” 

Brian turned sideways to give her a wry, acknowledging look, communicating the course of the conversation with Michael. She leaned closer and petted Gus’ leg in a maternal gesture, continuing the caress onto the shoulder of his father approvingly.  
Distracted, Brian blinked as Michael suddenly burst out laughing. “Look,” he said, pointing to the street. 

Brian looked at the parade in amused disbelief as New York’s finest in uniform marched by. And a few of them were actually quite…fine, he thought and let out a piercing whistle that made Lindsay glower at him.   
He grinned and looked back at Michael. “I can’t wait to see the face on Horvath when we tell him what he’s been missing today. He’d have been soooo filled with pride.”  
Michael snickered and clung to his arm affectionately. “Yeah he would, mom would have made soooo sure of it.” 

“Why is it called pride daddy?” a small voice piped up from above. Gus shifted and Brian caught a whiff of sweet vanilla breath as he leaned down and continued.   
“I told Carrie from school, the girl who wears braces and goes to church a lot, that I was going to see a Pride march and she said, her father says, that pride is a sin. I told her she was wrong. They wouldn’t call it Pride Parade if it was a bad thing, would they,” Gus said confidently. 

Brian sighed and rubbed his chin, trying to find an uncomplicated answer while Michael shook his head sadly.   
“You’re right sweetie,” Lindsay said calmly and held eye contact with Brian for a second before looking up at her son. “It’s okay to be proud and this is called the Pride Parade because everyone here is proud to be a little different.”

“You mean different like you and mom and Daddy and Justin? But what if I’m not like you? Does that mean I can’t be proud then?” Gus continued in a worried voice that made Brian picture the little frown on his face perfectly although he couldn’t see it. He tugged at one of the feet dangling of his chest reassuringly.   
“Don’t worry sonny boy,” he finally managed to utter. “Your old man might not win any daddy of the year awards but I think I can manage to teach you to be proud no matter how you turn out.”

Lindsay looked at him, smiling tenderly until he broke eye contact.   
In fact…” he bit his lip and shot a mischievous look back at her before pointing out to the street where a slightly overweight queen faltered under the weight of a sequined head piece, complete with feathers and looking as if it had single-handedly annihilated several endangered species of birds. “I’ll even teach you when to be ashamed.” 

Lindsay’s indignant giggle and the eager chat between Gus and Michael blended into the rising sounds of the crowd and the festive music being blasted through loud speakers. Brian let his attention drift in the midst of the organized chaos. He liked this. No, he fucking loved it. New York City with its fast pace and tenacious hold on life had greeted him with grudging respect and no preconceptions or expectations that had to be met. 

His eyes went unfocused as he let his senses drown out the noise and the explosion of rainbow colours amidst the gritty greyness of the streets until only a steady throbbing beat remained, reverberating through his body. A slow satisfied smile spread across his face as he visualized grabbing time by the balls and squeezing it until it froze the moment like a perfect photographic frame.

A childish squeal and the sudden cool, sticky slide of melting ice cream down his cheek brought him back to reality.   
“Sorry daddy!” Gus voice squeaked.   
Caught between balancing and reassuring a repentant child on his shoulders, Brian sidestepped to avoid the rest of the cone tumbling from Gus’ hand and onto the pavement while Lindsay fumbled in her purse for tissues and Michael tried in vain to reach up and give a helping hand.   
“Here let me” a voice sounded from behind, vibrant with laughter. 

Brian turned and smirked, “Have I ever complimented you on your timing Sunshine?” he said and stepped off the ledge.   
Justin rolled up a stubborn sleeve of the tight fitting deep blue shirt that made up his usual business attire, complete with expensive grey dress pants and the clashing stained old messenger bag, casually tossed to the ground as he reached out both hands. 

“Always, now shut up and bend over,” he told Brian challengingly to the sound of choked laughter from their companions.  
Brian looked at him. The slightly darkened blond strands of hair were refusing to lighten to the usual youthful golden sheen, but the skin still glowed pale and unblemished, complete with a flush of excitement almost resembling arousal. 

New York had that effect on him Brian mused as he gave the obligatory eye roll and obediently leaned forwards, shifting the weight of an increasingly heavy Gus. Justin looked like someone who had spent the past few hours telling every pretentious art fairy in sight exactly where they could stick their expectations. He looked radiant, fierce almost and fucking unbelievably beautiful. 

As he bent forwards, he felt Justin’s arms circle his face, one reaching up to cup his chin, pulling him further down and the other supporting the weight of his giggling son while a gentle, inquisitive tongue licked the melted dessert of his cheek.   
Brian closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, feeling the unaccustomed warring emotions of humility and triumph mix with the sweet taste of vanilla being swept across his lips and into his mouth in a deepening, hungry kiss. 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Feelingflames for everything you gave to this story back when I wrote it *smooch*

**Author's Note:**

> Grammar etc is not one of my strengths. Thanks for putting up with my mistakes and for reading this.


End file.
